


The Devil in the Devil

by CaptainMonochrome



Category: Daredevil (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, But Some Great Bonding Moments Too, But They All Make New Friends, Claire Puts Up With Everyone's Shit, Crossover, Demonic Possession, Friendship, Gen, It Gets Brought Up Again Briefly in Following Chapters, Matt Gets In Over His Head, Matt Stops a Rapist in Chapter 4, POV Alternating, There's Also Just a Lot of Fighting and Blood, so does foggy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:19:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 109,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainMonochrome/pseuds/CaptainMonochrome
Summary: Matt gets possessed by a demon. It doesn't go how the demon expected.  So now Azirale is stuck sharing a body with this reckless Catholic superhero, battling criminals, witches, and - oh great, now the Winchesters are here, too.





	1. Chapter 1

  Azirale had heard the stories. Every demon in New York had. 

  A man dressed in red, with  _ horns _ , parading around Hell’s Kitchen calling himself the Devil.

  It was ridiculous. It was disrespectful. It was hilarious. 

Some demons were indignant about it. Azirale knew one dude who had actually chased the guy down and subsequently had his ass handed to him. Apparently fighting  common low-level demons wasn’t too much of a hassle for the Daredevil. Other demons weren’t too bothered by it. It didn’t actually have anything to do with them, after all. He was just a human, caught up in human affairs. Azirale suspected he might be a little more than human, but they kept that thought to themselves.  The world hadn’t gotten stranger these past few years, humans were just finally becoming aware of how the strange the world had always been. To a century old demon like themself, however, gods and aliens and super-powered humans weren’t all that surprising. They didn’t particularly care about any of it. 

  That’s what they told themselves, but as they sat in the bar watching the latest news footage of Daredevil’s tail end of a fight with some gang, they found their teeth grating.  They couldn’t blame the guy for a name the press had given him, but he had really embraced the whole Devil persona.  Seriously, come on,  _ horns?  _ As if that’s what demons really looked like.  Calling him devil because - what, he broke a few arms? Put a couple people in comas?  As if that’s the worst demons could do.

 They slammed their glass back down on the counter and got up, leaving the bar without paying. The bartender glanced their way, then averted his eyes and continued his business. Smart guy. Some humans could tell when to back down. Some, on the other hand… Sometimes Az had to flash their eyes in warning. And if that didn’t work, they weren’t afraid to get violent. They enjoyed it as much as the next demon, they supposed, but most of the time it seemed like too much effort. Torment had gotten old.

  Luckily, they didn’t have to follow that line of thought to wherever the fuck it was headed, because the bartender hadn’t challenged them, and now they needed to think about what to do next. They were standing on the dark street, lamplight and neon reflecting jagged and broken in puddles of rainwater on the sidewalk. The wind was cold, whipping around their legs and snaking up their back, but of course they didn’t mind. They couldn’t really feel the cold, not the way they knew humans could. All they could feel right now was immensely bored. 

  Bored and pissed off.

  Pissed off that some human in a fancy suit with some fancy moves thought he could call himself a devil without knowing what it meant to be a devil. What you had to go through. What a terrible thing it was to exist.

  Az shook their head - there they went again, falling down that rabbit hole. 

  They needed a distraction.  They glanced back at the bar, still dimly able to hear the television from where they were standing.  They thought they had something in mind.

 

* * *

 

  Things had been getting weird in Hell’s Kitchen.  And for Matt, that was saying a lot.  He could handle aliens falling from the sky, shadowy organizations, ninjas, crime lords, superheroes - he could handle just about anything. But a cloud of unease had fallen across the city these past few weeks. Something was coming. He could feel it in the air, crackling like electricity, humming through the street, waiting. Watching. It prickled across his skin, stung his nose. 

  And then the freaks starting showing up. 

  The first Matt encountered seemed like fairly normal human. He had been following Matt through the dark alleyway for some time, and no matter how Matt ducked and dodged and scaled buildings or leaped across the rooftops, that steady heartbeat was always right behind him, strangely calm and steady. He knew the guy had to be booking it to keep up with Matt, but his heartbeat remained even the entire time. That’s when Matt first knew something was off. 

  He knew Foggy would shout at him for this later, but he took a stand on a rooftop and waited for his pursuer to catch up. 

  The dark didn’t seem to be a hindrance to the guy, who clambered up on the rooftop without a problem - Matt thought he might have enhanced strength. Nothing like Captain America or the Hulk, but it was something. He readjusted his stance, on guard. 

  “Why are you following me? Who are you?”

  “I’m here to teach you a lesson,” the man growled, surging forward. 

  He didn’t put up much of fight. Like Matt had suspected, he had some measure of super strength, but didn’t know how to properly use it. He swung wildly and left himself wide open - Matt got a few good hits in, and the guy stumbled.  Once again, no measurable reaction - no spike in heartbeat, he didn’t even seem to be out of breath.   The man came again, faster this time - it almost caught Matt by surprise but he ducked under the attack and caught the man in the ribs again, striking him in the same spot. This time he definitely heard the bones crack.

  But again - no reaction. 

  Matt frowned. Super strength and...something else? Healing?  He cocked his head and listened, dodging another clumsy attack - no, the ribs were still scraping and jostling against each other. No healing factor.  Could he just not register pain, then?  Matt would just have to incapacitate him then.

  His moment of distraction cost him - the man barreled into his side, tossing him across the roof. Matt managed to land in a roll and stumble to his feet. His breath had been knocked out of him, and it took him a moment to orient himself. The man was coming again. 

  Yeah, didn’t want to take another hit from that guy.

  Matt focused all his senses and energy, and when the man came into range, he lunged. He used the man’s momentum against him, flipping him face-first onto the roof. Before he had a chance to get up, Matt grabbed his leg and lifted it up, twisting, then brought his other foot down on the man’s knee.  He heard the bone snap.  No palpable reaction from the man except a frustrated curse. 

  For good measure, Matt broke his other leg, then bailed and left the man shouting curses at him from the roof.  His heartbeat was still slow and steady as ever; Matt’s, on the other hand, was racing.

 

  After that he had run into a few others like the man. Always the steady heartbeats, calm, even breaths, the stink of sulfur and blood strong on their bodies. Strong, and fast. Unhindered by the darkness. He thought they might prefer it, actually. Once, two had cornered him an empty street - two streetlights were buzzing overhead. One of them snapped their fingers, and the buzzing stopped. He assumed the light went out, and they were trying to scare him, or use the dark to their advantage. He had managed to get away without having to fight them.

  Okay, so at least one of them had some sort of power over electricity.  He really needed to do some serious investigation into these freaks. 

  Great. It wasn’t like he already had enough on his plate.

  Some new big name had sprung up in Hell’s Kitchen, dipping their hands into all sorts of criminal pools. People were being snatched off the street. Rates of missing people were rising at alarming rates. It wasn’t human trafficking, which just made Matt think whatever they were doing with these kidnapped people might be even worse.  Together, he and Foggy and Karen had managed to find a name with a loose connection to the recent spree of organized crime cutting through the city - Bouvois. A private entrepreneur with a hand in a number of shady businesses with even shadier books.  Matt was on his way to investigate one of the warehouses bought by Bouvois, when he ran into another one. 

  Well, first he ran into a group of men that caught him by surprise. They didn’t seem connected - one was a security guard, still in uniform, another was a plumber, another a businessman of some sort. But they were all tall and muscular, dowsed in sweat, insane amounts of adrenaline pumping through their systems, hearts racing towards cardiac arrest. They came loping down the street like a pack of dogs, surrounding him and - yeah, some of them were actually growling.

  “Hello, boys,” Matt said uneasily, letting his radar sense wash over them in all directions. Something was definitely wrong here - he had the impression these men weren’t exactly in control, and he didn’t want to hurt them - but he didn’t think he would have much of a choice.

  In the brief seconds before the first man lunged, Matt heard another heartbeat enter the scene. Perched on the fire escape, swinging her legs, smelling of sulfur. One of them.

  “Did you do this?” Matt demanded, facing the freak.

  “Me? Ha - no. But someone definitely has it out for you,” they answered. 

  Matt didn’t have any more time to chat - the first man was attacking, and then they all came.

  The fight lasted longer than he wanted. It probably would have gone on a lot longer, except the attackers started dropping all by themselves. Heart attacks.

  Through his own racing heart and ragged breaths, Matt heard the freak in the fire escape let out a low whistle.

  “Whoo, whoever sent those chumps underestimated you! Poor bastards - probably don’t even know what happened.”

  Matt leaned against a wall, the rough brick gritty beneath his torn sleeve. Just like he thought - it had been mind control, or something. He had heard about the case with the PI and the mind controller, Kilgrave. But he had died. Could there be someone else like him?

  He didn’t have time to think about that - all the men had fallen, their hearts giving out within seconds of each other. Matt fished his phone out and dialed the cops. If he left them here like this, they would die.

  “Oh, what a good Samaritan. Really, and you have the balls to call yourself the Devil.”

  Right. They were still here.

  “Do you know who did this?” Matt said. It was the first time he had really spoken to one of them.

  The freak jumped down from the fire escape, landing effortlessly like she had hopped down from a curb. 

  “No, not really. I mean, I have some ideas, but I don’t really care. I’m here for you.”

  Matt sighed. Of course. 

_   Hello? 911.  _ A tinny voice echoed out of his phone.

  He growled their location into the phone before snapping it shut and facing his new opponent.

  “You want to go?” He held his fists up.

The freak barked a laugh, “You couldn’t take me right now, and you know it.”

  “Let’s see about that,” Matt answered. He knew they were probably right, but he wasn’t going to admit that. The other of their kind he had faced always seemed unbalanced, rash, all brute force and no finesse. This one, though, was different. She took her time picking its way towards Matt, easy, unbothered. Confident.

  Yet the closer it got to Matt, the faster their heart beat. But not out of fear...it was angry.

  “Why do you call yourself the Devil?”

  “I didn’t come up with it - it just kind of stuck.”

  “Yeah, but you really embraced it, didn’t you? I mean, the horns and all.”

  “It helps to have an image.”

  “An image people fear?”

  Matt nodded.

  The freak laughed.

  Suddenly their voice was right next to him, whispering in his ear, sending him stumbling back in surprise.

  “Well, how does it feel? Are you afraid?”

  Matt attacked, throwing out a flurry of punches and kicks before jumping on top of the dumpster and onto the fire escape. He knew his blows had connected, but the freak had acted like he was giving her a light pat on the back, not debilitating blows to vital points in their body.  In the next instant, she had leaped up onto the fire escape, hands wrapping around the rusty railing and leaning across to sneer, he assumed, in his face.  However, before any more words or blows could be exchanged, the fire escape jostled. It tilted. There was the sound of wrenching metal, then they were both falling. 

  Matt landed hard against the pavement, curling up into a ball and covering his head as metal crashed around him.  When everything quieted down, he assessed his surroundings. Part of the fire escape had come away when the freak jumped on it, the rusted railing unable to bear her weight. None of the unconscious men seemed to have been injured seriously.  The freak, though…

  A piece of rusty metal was sticking through their chest, piercing their heart.  No beat, no breath. Dead.

  He held his head, trying to regain control of his senses. He heard sirens in the distance - the police would be here soon. He needed to get away.

  “The police are on their way, huh?”

  He froze. The dead body of the freak was standing, moving, talking. There was still no heartbeat. Because the bar of metal was still sticking through their heart. 

  "I guess it’s time we get out of here, huh?”

  Matt was starting to think he had hit his head harder than he thought. His senses weren’t working right. That body was definitely dead. He could smell it. 

  “How are you…”

  He cut himself off as suddenly the freak’s body collapsed, now well and truly dead. 

  Something cold and frightening washed over Matt, sending his hair on end. He could detect the faint sound of wind, the strong smell of sulfur and death, but nothing else. Whatever was happening - and he didn’t doubt something was happening - was undetectable through his senses. But he could feel it in his bones, in his blood - and it was telling him to run.

  He turned to flee, but in the next instant the smell of sulfur and death and the cold had overtaken him. It crashed into him, overwhelming his senses. Everything was at once muffled and clouded and blaring and flaming. Something was in his mouth, his nose, his throat, burning and suffocating him as it spread throughout his body, forcing him deeper and deeper into himself.  He was drowning in darkness. That wasn’t right - he was always in darkness, but this was different. This was true, tangible darkness. It was palpable. Something he could taste, something that was pressing against him on all sides, wrapping him up, burying him.  He struggled against it, and suddenly the fire was there, burning at him. Laughing at him.

  “This is what it is to be a devil,  _ Daredevil _ . Welcome to hell.”

  The voice - which he realized with horror, was coming from _ his own head _ \- started laughing maniacally. Then abruptly, the voice stopped laughing. There was a moment of quiet, and Matt was drowning and burning.

  He heard the voice speak again, “What the actual fuck.”

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Az get acquainted, and meet a fan.

  Okay, first off, this motherfucker was _blind_?

  Second off - _what the fuck_??  

  Azirale had suspected Daredevil had some sort of superpower or enhancement or mutation or whatever it was humans had these days - but this was just _bullshit_ . The world was screaming around them. Deafening. The wind was like knives on their skin, the cloth of their suit like sandpaper, the approaching police sirens felt like they were going to shatter their skull any moment. They knew they were standing in the alley, surrounded by dead or dying bodies and broken bits of fire escape, they _knew_ this, but suddenly they had lost all sense of direction and place. Somewhere a baby was crying. There weren’t any babies in the alley...then they heard a TV set snap on, could smell someone cooking curry, hear someone moan in the middle of an orgasm. Slowly, too slowly, they realized all these sounds and smells were coming from the buildings around them.

  Shit! They clapped his hands over their ears, but it didn’t help.

  They didn’t need to know what was going on three blocks over - they needed to get out of this alleyway.

  Just then, Az felt something tug deep in their gut. It was painful. They stumbled to the wall and fell to their knees. Was this body sick? Was it trying to vomit? The painful pulling sensation came again, and Azirale coughed, gagging. They clapped a hand to Daredevil’s mouth, horrified to sense a bit of black smoke puff away before darting back into Daredevil’s lips. Was...was this human trying to push Azirale out?

  This had been a bad idea.

  But they weren’t about to let this mortal punk get the better of them.

  Trying to remember the location of the roof approximate to their current position, Azirale did their best to cancel out all the distractions and just made a wild leap for it. They felt the air cutting past their exposed skin, the rush of it roaring in their ears - they had no clue where the roof actually was...except they did. Something about the way the wind flow changed around their body, the way sounds were bouncing around them - they could tell the roof was a few feet to their left and slightly above them. And they were about to collide with the edge of the building.

  Desperately, they shot a hand out towards where they thought they could sense the roof. There was contact, though the rest of their body slammed painfully into the brick side of the building. Below, the police had just reached the alley. They could smell the powder of their guns, hear their footsteps bouncing against the walls of the alley, their heartbeats. They didn’t want to focus on that, though - they wanted to get on this goddamn roof so they could properly control this body they had just possessed.

  They managed to haul Daredevil over the edge and fall to the gravelly floor of the roof with a dull thud. And they just lay there for a moment. They needed to process.

  Okay. So Daredevil was blind. But he had super enhanced senses - that explained how he got around, and fought the way he did. Azirale just needed to figure out how to properly use Daredevil’s senses, and they could get on with...with whatever they were doing. Why had they decided possessing Daredevil was a good idea again? Something about teaching him a lesson. What it really meant to be a devil. That would have to wait - right now he needed to learn how to be...

  Azirale paused, searching through his new vessel’s mind for a moment. It felt nice to focus inward instead of on the blaring world outside.

  Right now, Azirale needed to learn how to be... _Matt._

  Matt Murdock.

  A few memories flashed through Matt’s mind, and Azirale tried to get a proper grasp on them - an office, an image of a boxer, the feeling of braille beneath his fingers, a few  names - but before Azirale could sort through the influx of information, the memories were snatched back. A wall went up between Azirale and the rest of Matt’s mind.

  Huh. Interesting. And frustrating. At least Matt wasn’t trying to push Azirale out anymore, though.

  No, now Azirale was focused. They were getting comfy in this body. Just laying flat on their back, cautiously prodding at Matt’s mental block, trying to get more information from their host, letting the challenge distract them from the onslaught of sensory input pounding at the other side of their mind. They knew as soon as they turned their focus back towards the outside world, though, their grip on Matt’s body would get weaker. This guy was the most strong-willed human Azirale had ever possessed. If he gathered enough strength, and Azirale was distracted enough, they knew Matt could probably expunge them from his body. And they weren’t going to let that happen. Because even if Matt had the strongest will of any human Azirale had encountered, it was nothing compared to their own stubbornness. So, reluctantly, they left Matt’s mind alone and instead turned their focus outwards once again.

  They immediately winced.

_Loud, isn’t it?_

  What the - vessels weren’t supposed to talk back.

  Azirale immediately focused inwards again - but that mental wall was still up. It occurred to them that Matt must have had some sort of training to deal with possession, or mind control, at least. That would make things challenging.

  They smiled - they definitely weren’t bored now.

* * *

 

  Matt felt distant from everything. Muffled. But he was still there.

  After the initial shock of having his body taken over by some foreign entity, and getting past the burning/suffocating darkness and panic, he remembered Stick’s training. He could feel the _thing_ settling into his skin, his bones, controlling his muscles like a puppet. He could also feel it’s confusion. His senses, which he had learned to organize into carefully constructed chaos, were all over the place. The thing had no idea how to control them, how to focus, how to use them to _see_. It was also probably thrown off by the fact that Matt could not, in fact, see.

  It stumbled around, or he stumbled around - pronouns got confusing when possession was involved. It stumbled around for a moment, trying to get a handle on everything, and Matt could sense it’s disorientation in his own body. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he could feel it. Feel the darkness, feel his own body like a memory - and he pushed back.

  The thing winced, crumpling against a wall. Matt felt himself becoming more present in his body once again, the familiar warmth and hum of his bones and muscles becoming clear. He tried to take them back. 

  The thing gagged, covering its mouth. Matt felt clarity for a moment, and then abruptly he was shoved back into darkness and fog as the thing reasserted control over his body and made a wild jump at the roof. They almost didn’t make it, but luckily they managed to haul his body out of site as the police arrived. That’s when it started trying to read his mind.

  Matt had trained for this. Stick had taught him how to meditate, how to control his own mind, how to protect it against invaders. Matt had been skeptical - mind readers? Really? - but had diligently trained, obeying Stick’s orders. God, was he glad of that now.

  He constructed a wall in his mind, careful to control his thoughts, keep them inside the wall, keep them protected, away from the infringing darkness. The thing didn’t give up, though, prodding into his mind like a song stuck in his head, or an unwanted memory that popped up when you smelled a certain scent. But he was ready. It wasn’t getting anything from him. It wasn’t getting Foggy, or Karen, or Claire. He didn’t know what it wanted, exactly, but he knew it wasn’t good. 

  The thing seemed to give up, and in the next moment Matt felt his senses flood back in - loud and sharp and rank, how they used to be when he first woke up in the hospital as a kid.

  Azirale winced.

  Because suddenly Matt knew the thing’s name was Azirale. He supposed if you were sharing a body, the mind-reading thing went both ways. Maybe...maybe he could communicate with it. He knew it was dangerous - allowing any sort of contact between his mind and this thing, Azirale, could potentially lead to Azirale getting past Matt’s mental defenses. But he had to try - he had to know what was going on.

  “Loud, isn’t it?”

  Azirale, in Matt’s body, froze. Then it grinned with Matt’s lips.

_You’re handling this very well - being possessed by a demon and all. Usually my vessels are a little less calm, and more...screaming and crying? Or dying - that happens too._

  Matt didn’t answer back, instead putting his wall back up. A demon.

  Right.

  Aliens, shadowy organizations, ninjas, crime lords, superheroes - and demons.

  He supposed that’s what he got for adopting the name Daredevil.

  “Why are you doing this?”

_You were annoying me. I wanted to teach you a lesson._

  “What lesson?”

_If you’re going to call yourself the Devil, I wanted you to know what that meant._

  “How’s it going so far?”

  Matt knew he probably shouldn’t be sarcastic when talking to the demon that was currently possessing his body, but it just slipped out. Fortunately, all Azirale did was sit up - moving Matt’s body more like a zombie with rigor mortis than a living human being.

_Your superpower sucks._

  Matt laughed. He actually laughed - his lips moved, and sound escaped. It wasn’t exactly his laugh, but for a second he had controlled his own body. Then Azirale was back in control, and he froze again. A low growl escaped his throat - it felt strange to hear his voice, and know he wasn’t the one speaking.

  Below, Matt could hear the police on their radios, calling an ambulance, making reports. He could hear their heartbeats, and the heartbeats of the downed men that had attacked him. He wondered if Azirale knew anything about that - but he would have to find out later. Because not all of the men’s hearts were still beating. Plus there was the dead body that Azirale had been possessing earlier. They needed to get out of here.

  “We need to leave,” Azirale said.

_We’re on the same page there._

  “Then help me - I can’t control your stupid powers yet.”

_Why don’t you just leave, and we can go our separate ways?_

  “I’m not leaving. And if you don’t help me, then Daredevil is going to get charged with murder, and everyone will find out your true identity. I can’t imagine that’s what you want.”

  Matt growled - or he would have, but Azirale wasn’t give him an inch when it came to control. So he just remained a voice in his own head.

_Fine._

  Azirale jumped to his feet, and the world spun around them.

  “So how do we do this?”

_You’ll have to give me control._

  “And you try to push me out again? No thanks.”

_I can’t resist you and concentrate on my senses at the same time. Besides, this was your idea._

  Azirale grunted assent, and Matt felt his head clearing. It was like waking up out of a dream, or taking headphones off after listening to a book for hours. The world became sharp and defined around him once again, and he wanted to let out a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, Azirale didn’t let him have that much control. He realized his breathing and heart rate were remaining at the same steady rates he had heard in the other freaks - which he now realized had all been humans possessed by demons.

  He let the world in - all the sounds, smells, tastes, tangible sensations; the echoes bouncing off walls and rooftops, the chill wind, the slight dampness in the air from a recent rain, the smell of steam and garbage and night air, the taste of blood in the air. He organized it all, placing them in space, orienting his world around him.

  “That’s much better,” Azirale said.

  Their voice was Matt’s voice, but it wasn’t - the intonation and timbre were off, lower, gruffer. It sounded more like his “Daredevil” voice, but slightly more nasal. No one would probably really notice the difference, except Matt himself. Or Foggy. Foggy would definitely notice.

  “Where are we going? You won’t let me in that iron lock box of yours,” Azirale asked.

  Matt hesitated. He really didn’t want a demon in his home. But they needed to get out of here.

_I’ll guide us. Just follow my lead._

  “We’ll see how that goes, for now,” Azirale huffed.

  After that they didn’t talk much. Their minds were in sync, to some extent. Just like how you didn’t think about moving your arm to scratch an itch, or move your legs to walk - you just did it. They got a running start and leaped off the roof. And they _flew_.

  Not literally, though Matt really wasn’t sure what demon powers included. But they sailed through the air, landing on a rooftop three buildings away. The concrete cracked slightly under their feet.

  “You like that?” Azirale asked, laughter in their voice.

  Matt didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to admit to enjoying _anything_ that happened while he was _possessed by a demon_. But….damn.

  Azirale laughed, and Matt’s anger flared. But he immediately calmed himself. That’s what Stick had taught him - in this type of situation, he couldn’t let his emotions get to him. He had to be calm, in control. He couldn’t freak out. He couldn’t get lost. He couldn’t concentrate on the fact that a demon was in his body, his mind. He could panic later - right now he had to be. Calm.

  They put some distance between themselves and the police. No fancy flips or gratuitous parkour tonight - just superhuman leaps and brute strength. A few times on the landing, Matt felt the dull repercussions jar his body, and knew if he was more present he would be rolling in pain. Azirale didn’t feel it though, and so neither did Matt. The demon didn’t seem to concerned with self-preservation. It also hadn’t seemed concerned when a piece of rusty metal was sticking out of its heart earlier. Matt was at least grateful it wasn’t actively trying to hurt Matt’s body or break any of his bones.

  “Where are we going, kid?”

  Matt didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to lead this demon to his home. But he didn’t know where else to go. He couldn’t stay on the streets forever, and he really wanted to avoid running into any people in this state. He didn’t have a lot of options. They were perched on the corner of an apartment building roof overlooking the city, waiting to see where Matt would lead them next. He had the feeling he better decide fast, or Azirale would be choosing their next locale. Before he could make a decision, though, he heard the sound of a camera shutter snapping.

  Their head jerked towards the noise, and Matt could sense an open window across the street, a heartbeat - young and fast. A kid, leaning out their bedroom window, snapping of picture of Daredevil. He hoped the kid would go away, but when she saw Daredevil cock his head in her direction, her heart rate picked up and she started waving.

  Great.

  “Looks like you have a fan,”  Azirale purred, turning towards the kid against Matt’s will. He couldn’t do anything to stop them as they stood, leaping across the street and onto the narrow ledge of the kid’s window with hardly any effort at all.

  The little girl let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled back when Daredevil landed on her window sill, precariously but assuredly balanced on the narrow space.

  “Hello, miss. You doing alright tonight?” Azirale said in Matt’s voice, in Matt’s body.

  The little girl crept back towards the window, “Mr. Daredevil?”

  Azirale smiled, Matt’s lips pulling into a strained grin much wider than his own gentle smile.

  “That’s me.”

  The girl giggled slightly, “I can’t believe you’re here! You’re my hero!”

 _Run away! Run away!_ Matt wanted to scream. _He’s not me! He’s not Daredevil!_

  “Oh, but I am,” Azirale said softly, and Matt realized he had let his guard down. He tried to concentrate, but if he had been in control of his body his heart would have been racing. Azirale could snap this girl’s neck and he wouldn’t be able to stop them. All he would be able to do was watch.

  “And Daredevil would get the blame, wouldn’t he?” Azirale said again.

  “Huh? What are you talking about?” the girl asked. She couldn’t hear Matt. Of course she couldn’t.

  “Do you know why they call me the devil, little girl?”

  “Uh...because...you punish bad guys?”

  “No, because I am a bad, bad man,” Azirale hissed, reaching out towards the little girl. To grab her. To snap her neck.

  Matt let down all his mental defenses and focused all his energy on his muscles, on regaining control. He felt his heart do a frightening little jump, his limbs burning, his mind racing - then he felt his arms. They were buzzing, like he had slept on them wrong and they had fallen asleep, but they were his. He forced hands down, gripping the window sill with tight knuckles. He could feel Azirale fighting against him, the muscles in his arms and hands jumping and twitching, but he just tightened his grip.

  “Go. Away. NOW,” Matt ordered the girl, jaw clenched. He thought he felt a trickle of something warm dribble down his lip - was his nose bleeding?

  The girl’s heart rate had spiked, pounding out of control. She was frightened. Good.

  “Run!” he shouted again, then his mouth clamped shut and he couldn’t open it again. Azirale was taking over. The girl turned and ran away from the window. Matt tried to leap away from the window, but Azirale made to follow the girl inside. They ended up halfway in between, slamming into the window sill before losing their grip and falling.

  It was a short but swift fall, and Matt’s entire body and mind were a swirl of fighting and struggle, trying to regain control from Azirale. They were so busy fighting no one prepared Matt’s body for its collision with the ground.

  His head smacked against something hard and in the next instant, Matt was unconcious.

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a day at the office, Matt and Az spend a day in. Kinda.

  Azirale felt the moment Matt’s mind went quiet. They also felt the blood sliding out of the nasty gash on the side of their head, just behind their hairline. Oh well. 

  Matt’s mental barrier had shattered when his skull collided with the edge of the dumpster, which was a pro. They now realized Matt had been taking them in the opposite direction of his home, which was on the other side of town. Who knows where he had actually been headed - Azirale couldn’t quite sort that information out. They had access to Matt’s head space now, but it was still pretty confusing and difficult to pick through. It seemed as if the dude had spent his entire life fortifying his mind - it was like some sort of alien supercomputer instead of the common brain wiring Azirale was used to dealing with in vessels. And there were still the stupid fucking super senses to deal with.  But after observing Matt for a while, they had a better handle on how to operate it all. Mainly, though, they just concentrated on shutting everything out except what was essential. And no way they were going to go flying across rooftops without Matt to navigate. Not that Azirale could feel pain, but it would be inconvenient if he broke his vessel’s legs - made it very hard to walk.  Tonight, Daredevil would just have to take a nice, normal stroll down the sidewalk like a normal human.

  Okay, maybe not a nice stroll. Azirale did stick to alleyways, and climbed across a few roofs (no flying leaps) because, after all, Daredevil was a wanted vigilante. And while they could take care of a few police, they really didn’t want to deal with that right now. They also didn’t want their vessel full of bullet holes. 

  Eventually they made it to Matt’s apartment, clambering in through the roof access. The apartment was nice - not stark, but definitely not excessively decorated. It was neat, clean, sparse. Comfortable. Quiet.  Azirale stripped out of the Daredevil suit and tossed it on the couch. Now that they were in an isolated space, away from the noise and clutter of the city, Matt’s sensory radar powers were working much better. Or rather, Azirale had a better handle on it. They could place where everything was in the apartment, what it was - what it smelled like, its temperature, its taste. That didn’t stop them from digging through it all, though.

  They crouched in the bedroom, pulling all the clothes out of the drawers, running their hands over the soft fabric before tossing it to the floor. They pulled all the books off the shelf - all in braille. Azirale could read them by accessing Matt’s knowledge, but they honestly weren’t that interested. Most of the books seemed to be boring law books, anyway. 

  They went to the kitchen and opened all the cabinets, inspecting their contents and tossing them to the counter or the floor - wherever. There were some canned goods, labeled with braille - Foggy had done that. The thought flashed into their mind briefly, and Azirale decided to follow it. 

  Foggy Nelson, Matt’s partner-in-law, best friend, keeper of the Daredevil secret. They had gone to college together, interned together, opened a law firm together. 

  Another name popped into Matt’s head when Azirale got to the memories surrounding Nelson & Murdock - Karen Page. 

  She seemed interesting.

  Azirale grinned. They wanted to meet these two.

* * *

 

  Matt dully became aware of his surroundings, one sense at a time. He could feel his legs moving, his footsteps falling on creaking wooden floors, the fabric of a suit rubbing against his skin. Smell cheap coffee somewhere ahead, along with musty wood, ink and paper. Hear the sound of rushing traffic in the distance, voices and heartbeats filtering in from various rooms around him - Foggy and Karen talking in the office.  He briefly wondered why everything seemed so quiet and distant - the world wasn’t pounding into him the way it usually was. Then he wondered what he was doing at the office - how had he gotten here? He tried to organize his thoughts, but they were scattered to dark corners of his brain, and he couldn’t get a solid grip on his memories. Last night...he had been checking into that warehouse of Bouvois’...there had been the men...and the freak…

  The freak.

  Matt snapped into awareness, the memories of last night rushing back - Azirale, the demon, the strength -  _ flying _ \- the kid, falling - 

  And now he was walking into the office. Or rather, Azirale was walking Matt’s body into the office. Where Karen and Foggy were debating how to properly toss a baseball. 

_   “Good morning, sunshine,”  _ Azirale said in Matt’s mind. 

  Matt let out a low growl that of course didn’t make it to vocalization. 

_   “If you lay a finger on either them, I swear…”  _ Matt replied. 

_   “Don’t worry, this is going to be fun.” _

  Matt was certain he and Azirale had 100% different opinions on what qualified as fun, but there was nothing he could do to stop Azirale from turning the doorknob and walking inside with a stupid, too-wide grin on his face. 

  “Oh, hey...Matt,” Karen greeted, her voice quickly dipping into confusion. 

  “Nice fashion statement, buddy,” Foggy quipped, hovering somewhere between humour and trepidation. Azirale skirted Matt’s hands across his suit, feeling the fabric. 

  Matt felt a pang of anger and embarrassment. He knew things could be so much worse, being possessed by a demon and all - he should be relieved Azirale was just dressing him ridiculously instead of breaking his bones or killing his loved ones.  But at the same time it just felt so...petty. And humiliating.  Making fun of the blind guy. 

  Azirale sounded genuinely surprised, though, when they spoke, “Does it not match?”

  “Remember that time I tried to get you to dress up as Beetlejuice for Halloween?”

  “Oh no…”

  “Yeah.”

  Karen giggled, but Foggy’s voice sounded concerned.

  “How did you get that mixed up, dude?”

  “Couldn’t read the braille tags. I mean, I could, I guess - didn’t want to. It takes a lot of time, you know?”

  “Uh-huh. You feeling okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m great!” Azirale said enthusiastically. Karen and Foggy tilted their heads towards each slightly, and Matt knew they must be giving each other looks. Azirale didn’t care, though- they angled his body towards his office and smiled brighly.

  “This one is mine, right?”

  “What?” Karen asked after a second.

  “This office - oh, yeah, I remember now, okay,” Azirale said, half to themselves, and walked towards Matt’s office. Behind them, Foggy and Karen’s hearts picked up. 

  “Matt! Your head - are you okay?” Karen suddenly asked, taking a step towards him.

  Azirale fluttered his hands towards the side of Matt’s head, and his fingers brushed against a nasty cut just above his ear. It was starting to scab and congeal, but flecks of wet blood came off on his fingers. Azirale seemed to have cleaned it, barely - so luckily his face wasn’t smeared with blood, but that was the bare minimum the demon had done to take care of the cut. 

  “Oh, yeah - that must look pretty bad. I didn’t even realize. Kind of forgot about it.”

  “How do you forget about something like that! Matt, you need to go to the hospital!” Karen cried.

  “I’m sure it looks worse than it is. If only these fucking eyes could actually  _ see _ , this would be a lot easier!” Azirale laughed, harsh and angry. 

  “Alright, that’s enough, let’s sit you down,” Foggy suddenly rushed forward, grabbing Matt’s shoulders and steering him into his office and plopping him down in his chair. Karen’s racing heart wasn’t muffled at all when Foggy shut the door behind them. 

  “What the hell, Matt,” Foggy hissed. Azirale wasn’t paying attention, though. They were prodding the cut on Matt’s head with his fingers, rubbing the pads together and smearing blood everywhere. 

  “Stop poking at it!” Foggy snapped, swatting Matt’s hands.

  For a second, Azirale froze, eyebrows raised. Matt felt panic surge through him - it was strange to feel emotions without the corresponding physical indicators. There was no chill, no clenched muscles, short breaths, racing heart beat - just the pure emotion of panic. He knew Azirale was about to do something horrible to Foggy for swatting him.

  Matt struggled to regain control, once again letting down his mental barriers to focus on reclaiming his body. He wasn’t having much success.

  “I’m calling Claire.”

  Matt was so focused on fighting Azirale, that by the time he felt he demon dipping into his memories of Claire all he could do was splutter in protest. In the next instant, Azirale was spreading that unnerving grin across Matt’s face.

  “Oh, yes. Do call Claire.”

  Foggy aimed his face towards Matt - probably making a face - and pulled out his phone.

  “Yeah - exactly how hard did you hit your head last night?”

  “Pretty hard, I suppose. It knocked Matt out.”

  “Speaking in third person, okay. That can’t be good.”

  “Oh, sorry. I mean - it knocked  _ me _ out.”

  That’s when all Matt’s hard work paid off. While Azirale was gloating and making a fool of Matt, he had been concentrating all his willpower. Azirale might be a powerful demon - but this was  _ Matt’s _ body.  _ His _ mind.  Azirale had Matt’s elbows on the desk, resting his head in his hands and smiling towards Foggy - but when they felt Matt taking back control, they fought back. His face twisted up and his arms started shaking, gripping the edge of the desk, as Matt forced his way back into his muscles, back into the forefront of his brain - pushing a cursing, fighting Azirale back.

  “Whoa, whoa! Matt! Matt - what’s going on? Can you hear me?”

  Matt gritted his teeth and pushed harder. He knew it probably looked like he was having some sort of episode or seizure to Foggy. Which wouldn’t really be helpful for what he had to say next.

  “No….don’t call Claire. Foggy.”

  His words came out rushed and broken. Yeah, definitely not helping his case.

  “I’m calling her.”

  “Foggy...no, it’s not...me.”

  Of course that didn’t make sense to Foggy. How was Matt supposed to explain everything that happened last night, about how a centuries-old demon had possessed him, when he could hardly get five words out? 

  But he couldn’t call Claire. He couldn’t let Azirale have her, too. Foggy and Karen were already in enough danger.

  Matt heard Foggy tapping on his phone, little beeps emitting from the screen. Dialing.

  “No!” Matt shouted, and suddenly Foggy’s phone flew out of his hand and crashed into the wall. It clattered to the floor, several pieces popping off and scattering. 

  For a moment, they both sat there in silence.  Foggy stared at the phone, then turned his head towards Matt. 

  “Did...did you just…”

  “No. I didn’t...wasn’t…”

  “Do you have freaking  _ telekinesis _ , Matt?  _ What the fuck _ ,” Foggy was in Matt’s face, voice trembling - trying desperately not to shout. 

  Strangely, as soon as the phone had shot out of Foggy’s hand, Azirale had quieted down. Matt could actually relax slightly, instead of constantly having to push back just for minimum control. He could sense the demon was...interested? Fascinated? They seemed to just be observing instead of trying to control Matt. Which he was grateful for, but also wary of. 

_   Did you do that? _ Matt asked.

_   That was all you - kid. You used my powers all on your own.  _

  Matt gulped. He couldn’t think about that right now. Foggy was still leaning over him, heart beating like a locomotive.

  “I have to go,” Matt said. Azirale was still there - and Matt just wanted to get them as far away from Foggy and Karen as he could.

  “Matt, what the hell - you can’t just -” Matt shoved past Foggy and headed out the door, trailing his fingers along the wall as he walked. Now that he was in control, or sharing control - he didn’t really understand completely what was going on with Azirale - but he was in command of his body and his senses. He could navigate fine on his own, but having physical contact to guide him was always reassuring. Especially now.

  “Matt, what -” Karen started, but Matt didn’t even pause. He needed to  _ leave _ . 

  He remembered to snatch his cane at the last moment, then accidentally slammed the door behind him. Foggy and Karen’s footsteps ran to the door, and Foggy opened it to shout at him -

  But suddenly Matt was in his apartment. 

  The abrupt change of scene took him by surprise. He doubled over, feeling nauseous and dizzy. One minute - creaky floors, musty wood, stale coffee, Foggy, Karen. The next - concrete, quiet, the familiar scent of his own blankets and blood.  After a second, he calmed down and stumbled to his couch.

  “What was that?” he rasped aloud.

_   Teleportation.  _

  “Why...why did you bring me back here?”

_   I didn’t. That was you _ .

  “How could I do that? I didn’t even know...I don’t know…”

  Matt could feel his heart speeding up as he started to panic. And strangely enough, that’s what calmed him down. He could feel his body again. The physical sensations were back. He was here, he was present.  Azirale was still there - Matt could feel them, sitting inside his chest like a shard of ice. Somehow, he innately knew he wouldn’t be able to push him out on his own, even though he was more in control now than he had been when he almost expunged the demon earlier. No, now Azirale had settled in. It was like a splinter that had dug its way in deep, and the skin had already healed over.

  But Matt wasn’t about to let Azirale get back in the driver’s seat.  Right now, his control felt fragile and tentative. If he got too emotional, or panicked, he was sure Azirale would shove Matt back down into the darkness and the fog and take control again.  So he did the only thing he knew to do.  He meditated.  Cross-legged, back straight, the floor cool against his skin.  It was a little different than his usual routine, because he had a specific goal in mind - to fortify his mind against the demon, and bind Azirale down if he could.  So far, he wasn’t having much luck.

  Azirale didn’t take over again, which was good. But they didn’t seem quelled by Matt’s mental defenses. They did complain when Matt walled his mind off, sealing away his thoughts and emotions and memories. They complained when Matt sat there for two more hours, in silence, unmoving. They complained when Matt wouldn’t talk back to them.

  They complained a lot.

_   “I thought you were supposed to be a powerful, centuries-old demon. Isn’t all this whining beneath you?”  _ Matt finally gave in. He knew it was amateur, but three hours of listening to a voice in his head griping was enough.

_   I am a powerful, centuries-old demon. And no, this isn’t beneath me.  _

_   You could always leave, if you’re so bored. _

_   I still have to teach you a lesson. _

  Matt sighed.  _ Is whining part of the lesson? _

_   No. But you’re turning out to be more interesting than I thought. I might have to modify my plans.  _

  Matt stopped talking, blocking off his mind again. He didn’t want to know what Azirale’s long term plans were. Well, he did, but he couldn’t deal with that right now. 

  Right now, he needed to focus.

  They sat there for several more hours. 

  Matt knew he should be hungry by now, but he didn’t feel anything. He guessed it had something to do with being possessed. He wasn’t thirsty, didn’t feel pain. Wasn’t tired.  He knew Foggy had probably tried to call him, but he turned his phone off. He was half-expecting Foggy to walk up the stairs and start pounding on his door any minute now, but that didn’t happen.

  Instead, Matt heard something else.

  Azirale heard it, too.

  A woman, screaming for help. Three blocks over. 

  There were other voices - three men, surrounding her. Threatening her.

_   Well, let’s get a move on, then. _

  Matt startled at Azirale’s voice. He realized the demon had been quiet for the past hour.

  “What?”

_   Let’s go - that woman is crying for help. Isn’t that your cue? _

  “I can’t go. Not now. Not with you.”

  “Oh, so you’re just going to let those men have their way with her? That’s not very heroic.”

  The voice came out of Matt’s mouth, but it was Azirale speaking. To anyone else, it would look like Matt was having a conversation with himself.

  “You being there will only make things worse,” Matt answered.

  “I promise I won’t kill the lady. Isn’t that good enough?”

  “No.”

  “You can’t stay here forever.”

  “I don’t plan on it.”

  “Then let’s go! Come on - let’s go be Daredevil, save the day! Or are you just going to sit here and listen to them rape and murder her?”

  Matt growled, and in his head, Azirale laughed.

  “You can’t kill anyone.”

  “I won’t kill the woman,” Azirale answered.

  “ _ Anyone _ .”

  “Fine, whatever - let’s go!”

  Matt begrudgingly stood, but his body hopped up with more energy than he had been expecting. Azirale was back. They weren’t exactly in control - they were sharing, with Matt. It was a strange feeling - similar to before, when they had fled the alley and made that initial flying leap. Their minds were in sync, moving together as one, yet still separate. Matt wasn’t going to think too hard about how that worked.  Instead, he concentrated on gearing up. The woman had stopped screaming and was sobbing now. One of the men had struck her across the face.

  Azirale was right - there was no way Matt was just going to sit there and listen to that happening. Not when he could stop it. 

  Not when  _ they _ could stop it.

  He was worried about exactly what Azirale might do when they go there - but at the same time, if anyone was going to be punished at the hands of the devil, those men had it coming. 

  Azirale and Matt moved as one to the window, perching there a moment, listening - then leaped. 

  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Az gets their first taste of Daredeviling, and things get a little wild. Also - Foggy gets a good spook. 
> 
> Warning: Matt stops an attempted rape in this chapter. There's also a lot of violence.

  They didn’t just leap. 

  They  _ flew.  _

  Again, Matt refused to enjoy  _ any aspect  _ of being  _ possessed by a demon.  _ But deep down, a part of him enjoyed the feeling of soaring through the air, unhindered by the world below, only the cool air against his skin.  And Matt could tell Azirale was enjoying it, too. Anytime Matt flipped or twisted in the air, or pulled off a particularly tricky move as they vaulted wall to roof to pole to fire escape to roof, Azirale would laugh or let out a little cheer. Sometimes these little celebratory noises were only audible in Matt’s head, but other times Azirale would actually let out a whoop as they sailed across an alleyway.

  “This whole vigilante thing really only works if I keep a low profile, you know,” Matt verbally interrupted, cutting off a peal of enthusiastic laughter from Azirale.

_   “And there you go again, interrupting me! I’ve never had a vessel that could do that before,”  _ Azirale answered, mentally.

  Matt felt a tingle of unease ripple across his ribs, a familiar feeling. Having been blind most of his life, he was used to people studying him, being fascinated by his disability - and it never made him any less uncomfortable. He had always been afraid if the wrong person discovered his senses, they would want to study that, too. Some curiosity to break down and analyze. And Azirale was looking at him the same way.

  Or, not exactly looking, since Matt’s eyes couldn’t exactly  _ look _ \- and there wasn’t really anything to look at, anyway, because they were both in the same body. But he could feel the demon’s interest focusing in on him, latching on, hungry. 

  Plus, he had the feeling that the more interesting Azirale found Matt, the less likely he would leave.  Matt didn’t know what to do about it, though, so he just stopped talking to the demon and instead focused on getting to the woman. She was only a street away now - they had reached her in just a couple of minutes. As in - two minutes. Maybe shorter. 

  Again - Matt didn’t enjoy the fact that he was now about three times faster than normal. But he was grateful that they had gotten there that quickly - because the men had roughed the woman up quite a bit, and two of them were holding her down on the ground while the third got his belt undone. Matt could smell their sweat, their filth, the woman’s blood on their knuckles. He could hear her ragged sobs and stuttering heart. 

  Then he heard the man whose pants were now falling around his ankles’ heart jump when he saw Daredevil drop out of the air and land in the alley just a few yard away. 

  “What, Harry? Come on - or I’ll have a go,” one of the men on the ground said, turning his head towards the pantsless man, Harry. The other man turned his head towards Daredevil, and his heart jumped too. 

  Harry and Man #2 both stumbled backward. The third man didn’t move except to slump to the ground when Daredevil’s billy club connected with his skull. 

  Matt moved towards the woman, wanting to tell her to go and find help - but instead his body carried him past the woman and towards the unconscious man. 

_   Let’s finish him off.  _

  Azirale lifted their foot to stomp down on the man’s head, snapping his neck or crushing his skull or both - but Matt quickly redirected the blow, causing them to stumble. 

_   No killing, _ Matt reminded Azirale.

  They stayed like that for a moment, frozen, half hunched over while Matt and Azirale fought over whether to kill the man. The woman stared at them in fear for a moment, then scrambled away and ran for the mouth of the alley. 

  BANG!

  BANG! BANG!

  Three gunshots rocketed through the alley, making Azirale and Matt wince, dropping closer to the ground as they focused their energy outwards once again.

  Harry had pulled a gun out of - Matt wasn’t entirely sure where, since he was holding his pants up with his other hand. Neither of them had noticed the gun before; or if Azirale had, they hadn’t thought to share the information with Matt. 

  One of the bullets had smashed into the concrete near Daredevil. Bad aim.

  The other had landed in the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even worse aim.

  The third had flown into the back of the fleeing woman, between her ribs and her right hip. 

  Something dark and furious surged up in Matt, seeping out from between his gritted teeth in the form of a low growl as he turned to face the two men. 

* * *

  Azirale felt the shift, the change, the transformation in Matt. 

  And sure, they had experienced human anger before. Dealt with it quite a lot, actually. But never like this. 

  As soon as Matt realized the woman had been shot, that careful control he had been maintaining ever since Azirale moved in just disintegrated. Fell apart in shards of rage. All those hours of meditation flew out the window as Matt moved towards the two men. And that was another strange thing.  Matt had taken back control of his body, but he hadn’t fought Azirale for control, or struggled to push them back - it was as if he had matched some sort of wavelength with Azirale. They felt their vessel moving, felt like a puppet on a string - it was almost as if Matt were the one possessing  _ them _ . Which didn’t make any kind of sense, since Azirale didn’t even have a physical body. It was more like Matt had stepped into their soul and was using it how he saw fit. 

  And Azirale - well, he wasn’t helpless, exactly. It was a strange feeling. They didn’t want to fight Matt, didn’t want to push back, or regain control. They were  _ with _ Matt. Like Matt’s emotions had infected them, taken over their own feelings. It had been a long, long while since Azirale had felt human emotions - he had forgotten what vividness and intensity humans conjured in their souls.  They could feel the  _ anger,  _ and the  _ fury,  _ and the  _ terror _ . The heat that buzzed in their ears, the cold stream that twisted in their gut, the short circuit in their brain that cut off reasoning, the live wire that just spoke to violence and desire. Azirale felt it all, he felt what Matt was feeling - not just as an observer, but as a participant. 

  And they wanted to kill that man. 

  Harry aimed the gun at them again, and Matt and Azirale - they weren’t really separate in the moment - flicked a hand towards the man, sending the gun flying. 

  The second man made to move towards Daredevil, but they had already found the second billy club and flung it towards the assailant with pinpoint accuracy. And demon strength. It shot from Daredevil’s fingers and crashed into the man’s eye socket, cracking bone as it drove through the skull and bluntly dug into the brain. 

  He fell, dead. 

  Harry backed up, tripped on his pants, and fell on his ass.

  In the next instant, they were on him. 

  Grabbing his collar. 

  Lifting him into the air. 

  Listened to him beg for mercy, listened to him sob, then choke. 

  Listened to his throat start to crumple, to tear. 

  Smelled the blood in his mouth, spilling past his lips, drowning in it. 

  They hadn’t used this trick on anyone in a while - and usually cut it short when they started coughing up their own blood. But this time they didn’t stop. Daredevil didn’t stop.  And they were Daredevil this time.  They weren’t doing this to pass time, or bully some humans, or take out their own cold, dead anger that had festered over the centuries. They were doing this to satisfy the black rage that was consuming them.

  Finally, they dropped the man to the ground. He was still breathing, but he wouldn’t be for long.  They turned back towards the woman. She was trembling on the ground, bleeding, afraid.  Daredevil walked closer.  Her heart beat faster.  She was afraid of them.  They didn’t care - they crouched down next to her, shucking their glove, placing their bare fingers on the bullet wound. It had passed clean through.  They cocked their head and listened - no sirens. No one nearby, no one on the phone. There had been no witnesses. No one to call the police.

  They gathered the woman in their arms and then suddenly they were standing in a hospital, full of loud voices and weak heartbeats and blood and antiseptic and buzzing machines.  There were shouts and spiked heart rates to greet them when they suddenly appeared, but when they laid the injured woman on a nearby gurney, the attention shifted to the new patient. 

  And then they were back in Matt’s apartment. 

  And they came apart.

  Azirale felt Matt peel away from them like a snake shedding its skin. They were two spokes on a cassette tape, spinning in perfect unison - then suddenly they stalled, and the tape unwound and jammed, spilling film out of its base like intestines from a gutted pig. It was jolting. Like running, all grace and speed - then one of your legs seizes up while the other tries to take a flying leap. Then smacking face-first into the tarmac.

  Matt shuddered and fell to his knees with a groan. Azirale fell with him, letting their legs fold under them, feeling numb. Matt’s emotions were leaking out of the demon, going back where they belonged, leaving Azirale feeling colder and emptier than they had in a long time. Even Matt’s senses snapping out of control for a second wasn’t enough to phase them, the sudden influx of smells and sound and texture seemingly far and distant. 

  Azirale could sense Matt’s rising panic and distress, but they couldn’t  _ feel _ it anymore. 

  And they wanted to.

  The realization surprised them. They had possessed Matt to show him what it really meant to be a demon, but instead they had been reminded what it had been like to be human. They were disappointed in themselves. A little disgusted. But they only let it bother them for a moment - they were a demon, and demons didn’t care how unseemly or inappropriate an idea was; they cared about self gratification. And Azirale wanted that feeling back. 

  The feeling of feeling. 

  They probed a little into Matt’s mind, trying to see if they could soak up anything, but Matt reacted sharply, violently shoving them out, lashing out in fear and anger.  It was a little annoying. But Azirale was feeling more than a little drained and dazed at the moment, so he let it slide.

  “Why are you freaking out? We saved that woman,” Azirale asked.

  “I killed those men. I  _ killed them.” _

  Azirale vaguely remembered Matt saying something about not killing anyone at the beginning of their little adventure, but had disregarded it. What did it matter if they killed a few rapists? They were bad guys.  And Matt was a wanted criminal, anyway.

  “It  _ does  _ matter,” Matt hissed, and Azirale realized he hadn’t been shielding his thoughts, at all. Oh well.

  “You obviously wanted to kill him, so you did.”

  “I did not want to kill them! That was you! That was you…” Matt shouted, grabbing one of the cans Azirale had pulled out of the cabinet earlier and throwing it against the wall. His voice quickly faded into a trembling whimper. 

  “Does the lie detector thing work on yourself? Because you’re definitely lying.”

  “You’re a demon - can’t you tell that kind of thing?” Matt snapped, sinking to the floor and putting his hands over his head. Azirale shrugged, which would have looked awkward if anyone had been there to see Matt’s body. But it was just the two of them.

  “Depends.”

  “I can’t believe I killed them...I don’t...I usually can control…”

  “I mean, I’m not saying I didn’t have a hand in it - but it definitely wasn’t just me. It was...us.”

  Matt didn’t respond, and Azirale prodded his emotions again. Matt didn’t defend this time. Azirale thought he might be in shock. There were a million different emotions and thoughts running through his head, all contradicting one another. Anger at himself. Anger at the men. Anger at Azirale. Sorrow. Guilt. Fear. Pleasure. Justice. Satisfaction. Horror. Peace. And the memories of the murders kept playing themselves over and over again. The smell of the man’s blood, the sound of his choking breath, the feel of his clothes wrapped up in Matt’s fingers. The sound of the other man’s skull crunching against Matt’s baton. 

  Matt’s heart spiked for a second, and his hand flew to his leg holster where he kept his clubs. They were there. Azirale didn’t remember picking them up, and neither did Matt. They must have done it in that rage-trance state. Or maybe Matt had subconsciously used some of Azirale’s demonic power to teleport the clubs back to him or something. They weren’t really sure how a human accessing the power of the demon possessing it worked.

  They also weren’t sure how Matt’s mind was working. Because even if they had forgotten the clubs, it’s not like there were two still-living witnesses who could confirm Daredevil being at the scene of the crime. 

  Matt, once again, heard Azirale’s thoughts, and slumped further to the ground until he was laying curled up on his side, pressing his forehead into the cold floor. Azirale let him. He wasn’t concerned with controlling Matt’s body at present.

  “What was that? Back there. I choked that man without touching him.”

  “We choked him. That was both of us. And honestly, I don’t know. You’re a fucking weirdo - I’ve never possessed a vessel that could use my demonic powers like that. Or...or whatever else you did back there. I know you felt that, too.”

  “I let the devil out,” Matt said, laughing without a single hint of sincerity. 

  Memories started flashing through Matt’s head, and Azirale tried to follow them - a boxer, the smell of sweat, the sound of a staticky tv set, a priest - a priest??

  But suddenly Matt was closing up his mind again, scooping all his renegade memories and pulling them back behind the safety of his mental wall. Azirale didn’t fight him, but they were a bit miffed.  Instead, they both just lay there on the floor, unmoving. Each sorting through what had just happened.  Matt feeling closer to being a real devil than he ever had before, and Azirale feeling closer to human. Neither of them were particularly happy about it.  But deep down they both wanted more.

  Suddenly someone was pounding on the door. 

  They both started, but jerked in different directions that ended up with Matt’s body spasming on the floor for a second before finally sitting up and facing the door. 

  “Matt, open up! Matt!” 

  Foggy.

  Azirale lurched towards the door, but Matt pulled away - once again, they ended up falling to the floor with a loud thud. 

  Whatever synchronicity they had experienced before had been reversed now, apparently. But it didn’t matter, because Foggy had a key and was loudly jangling it in the lock, trying to get the door open. His heart was fast. He was sweating. His hands shook slightly. 

  “Leave him alone,” Matt growled. 

  “Why would I hurt Foggy? He’s our best friend,” Azirale said, sounding sickly sweet and innocent.

  “Matt?” Foggy had heard them talking. Of course, to him, it would just sound like Matt was talking to himself. 

  Matt wanted to jump out the window, to avoid Foggy at all costs. Azirale didn’t want to completely take over their body again, but they wanted to stay and talk to Foggy. So they grabbed the counter and clamped their fingers down in an iron grip - it helped to have a physical anchor to focus on, rather than just fight a mental battle with Matt for control. When had they needed to fight a vessel for control? The whole idea was ludicrous - but Azirale didn’t want to shove Matt away, and honestly, he wasn’t sure he could at this point. 

  Foggy walked into the room. 

  “Whoa…” his head slowly turned, surveying the scene. Ah, right. Azirale had made quite a mess the night before. Clothes were still scattered across the floor, along with Matt’s bedding, books, and personal possessions. Plates, tupperware containers, cans and bottles lay stacked on the counters, tossed haphazardly in the sink, or broken on the floor. 

  “Foggy, you need to leave,” Matt said from his place by the counter, where Azirale had placed them.

  Foggy turned his head towards Matt, and his heart rate picked up. They noticed Foggy was holding something in his hand - a newspaper? Azirale pulled Matt’s lips up in a grin - they were getting much better with the super senses. 

  Foggy took a tiny half-step back when Matt smiled, then squared his shoulders and walked a few steps closer.

  “Matt - what the hell happened last night?”

  They frowned, cocked their head - last night, when Azirale possessed Matt? 

  “Did you kill those guys?”

  But that had just happened - how did Foggy know - 

  “How do you know about that?” Matt asked, and Foggy’s heartbeat started drumming even faster.

  “How do I - it’s all over the news! Matt - what in fucking hell? One had a giant gaping hole in his face! And I don’t even know what you did to the other one, the cops can’t even figure it out!”

  They were still frowning.

  “Wait, what day is it?”

  “Wha - it’s May 8th, Matt.”

  The next day. They had laid on the floor all night? And part of the next day? It had only felt like a few minutes...or hours...honestly, time had seemed nonexistent last night. Azirale blamed his skewed sense of time on immortality and the whole way being in hell warped time. 

  So the story of their heroics had already been printed. Azirale was still amazed at how quickly humans spread gossip. 

  “Foggy, I can explain,” Matt was saying. He didn’t sound very convincing.

  “Just let me tell him. I’ll do a better job,” Azirale said.

  Matt immediately tensed, and Foggy - yep, his heart started beating even faster. He was going to have a god damned heart attack any second at this rate. 

  “ _ Shut up,” _ Matt said internally.

  “You shut up. I got this,” Azirale answered.

  “Azirale!” Matt barked - then cut himself off. 

  “So formal - just call me Az,” Azirale laughed. 

  “...Matt?” Foggy asked, voice wavering. 

  “Yeah, you already know him. Let me introduce  _ myself _ . Name’s Azirale - but I kind of like the sound of just  _ Az _ , don’t you?”

  Azirale turned towards Foggy - with very little resistance from Matt, surprisingly - and pasted on an enthusiastic smile. They were still wearing the Daredevil costume, but had ditched the mask and gloves at some point. So when they turned towards Foggy and flashed their eyes black, the trick had its full effect. 

  Foggy’s heart almost stopped. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy gets some answers

  Foggy had been having a bad day.

  First, he overslept his alarm and had to rush to the office without any breakfast. The most important meal of the day. Then when he got there, no one was even there, so all his rushing had been for naught. Soon enough, though, Karen had arrived which made things a little better. That was one of the pros of working with your best friends.

  The con of working with your best friends was watching one of them walk into the office with a giant gash in the side of his face and apparent short-term memory loss. And then having to lie to Karen about all of it.

  Sure, it had been a little funny at first to see Matt walk in wearing the black and white striped jacket Foggy had bought him a few years back for a Beetlejuice costume - which Matt had refused to wear. Said costumes weren’t his thing.

  Yeah, right.

  But that little bit of funny had evaporated real quick when he started muttering and cursing to himself, asking where his office was, and - oh yeah, _bleeding from a fucking head wound_ .  And things had gotten even worse. Of course, he expected Matt to argue with him about calling Claire. Water was wet. Matt had zero sense of self-preservation. What else was new?  He had been extremely concerned when Matt started seizing up, or having some sort of attack - but not necessarily surprised. Kind of came with the territory of _I think I can see your skull through that gash in your head._ But then things had gotten weird. Like, aliens falling from the sky weird. Discovering your best friend had super senses and was a famous vigilante weird.

  Matt threw his phone against the wall - with his _mind_. Or Foggy assumed that’s what happened. One minute he was dialing Claire’s number, Matt was telling him not to - and then an invisible force pulled the phone from his grip and smashed it against the wall. And Matt’s eyes went big, his face scared and guilty. And when Foggy asked if he had telekinesis - was he seriously still hiding things from Foggy? - he just ran away.

  Or maybe a more apt term would be _fucking vanish into thin air._

  He and Karen ran to the door just in time to see Matt disappear. He didn’t duck into a doorway or jump out of sight - one minute he was there, the next he wasn’t. The air smelled sour, and a chill washed over Foggy - but he didn’t have much time to think about what that meant, because Karen was looking back at him with huge eyes. And Foggy knew he was going to have to cover for Matt.

_That asshole._

  “Foggy - what…”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But...he just...did he just…vanish?”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “But he was standing right there -”

  “We probably just missed him.”

  Karen looked at him skeptically, and Foggy’s heart clenched up. He hated lying. Especially to Karen. And he was also bad at it. Very, very bad. Why was he even covering for Matt? The dude had lied to him _again_ . About something kind of _huge._ But at the same time something didn’t sit right with Foggy about all this. Matt hadn’t been himself. Not just the head-injury induced ramblings and weird superpowers - or yeah, that, plus something. It was enough to keep Foggy from writing Matt of completely. He was his best friend, after all.

  That’s right - Matt was his best friend. That was still true, even after Daredevil. And when Foggy had accepted that, he had just accepted whatever weird shit would come with that. Matt had told him some of the strange things he had encountered while Daredeviling - and Foggy had seen aliens and gods battling in the middle of the city. Plus there was that recent story about the mind-controller, Kilgrave, who could control people like puppets, even hours afterward. He had even made people kill themselves, according to the article Foggy had read.

  “What did he say when you were talking to him?”

  “He didn’t want to see the doctor,” Foggy answered. That was true, at least.

  “I’m going to call him,” Karen said, her eyes sliding away from Foggy, hurt.

  He couldn’t blame her.

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Foggy said. He knew Matt wouldn’t answer. Or if he did, Karen wouldn’t get anything out of him. He hated Matt a little for that.

  He went back into his office while Karen got her phone out. After shutting his door, he retrieved his own phone from the floor and put it back together. The back had popped off, and the battery, and the screen had cracked. Parts of the case had shattered across the floor. But it was still intact, and after a little finagling - operating.

  Foggy called Claire.

  The phone rang long enough that Foggy was going to hang up and try again later, but before he got a chance to, she answered.

  “Foggy? What happened this time.” Her voice was flat. Tired. Accepting.

  “Head wound, but -”

  “Is he okay? I’m kind of busy at the moment.”

  “I...I don’t know. He’s acting weird. Forgot where his office was for a moment, saying weird shit. And...well, how busy are you?”

  “Pretty. Talk about weird shit - we got plenty of that here.”

  “Like what?”

  Foggy was vaguely aware they were shifting into a conversational tone, like old buddies - he shouldn’t be old buddies status with Matt’s emergency medical caregiver. That just spoke to the amount of times Matt needed emergency medical care, and Foggy and Claire always seemed to converge at these moments. But he thought they both needed it. To be able to talk about the insanity Matt had added to their lives with someone else who understood.

  “Seven patients came in the other day - foaming at the mouth crazy, bleeding from the nose and eyes. So pumped full of adrenaline that they all went into cardiac arrest.”

  “Wow.”

  “Two of them died before we could do anything, and another woke up - started shouting and pulling against his restraints - and then died shortly after. It was freaky as shit.”

  “What about the rest?”

  “Three are still in comas. The fourth woke up, but doesn’t remember anything. Still can’t figure out what’s causing all this.”

  There was a sigh on her end of the line, and then she spoke again, “So tell me about your weird shit.”

  “Well...you know about Matt’s super senses thing.”

  “Yeah. Kinda hard to forget that one.”

  “Has he ever told you about...anything else?”

  “Like how he learned to fight? Briefly. And vaguely.”

  “No. Like...other powers? Abilities?”

  “Aren’t the ninja moves and hearing heartbeats two blocks over enough?”

  “Apparently not. I think he used telekinesis earlier.”

  There was a pause, then, “Telekinesis?”

  “Yeah, you know - moving stuff with your mind.”

  “I know what telekinesis is. Matt moved something with his mind?”

  “He threw my phone against the wall.”

  “I...I honestly had no clue about that, Foggy. He’s never mentioned it, and I’ve never seen him use it. Not even when he’s out of it - and I’ve seen him pretty out of it.”

  “But you don’t think I’m crazy to think that?”

  “I’ve seen too much crazy to dismiss anything these days.”

  “What about teleportation.”

  “Matt teleported?”

  “I think? Maybe?”

  “I’m sorry, Foggy - that’s beyond my expertise.”

  Foggy sighed, ran a hand down his face, “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “You said he hit his head - think it’s related?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll talk to him.”

  “I’ll try to make some time later, but - wait. Sorry, I have to go. One of the patients woke up.”

  “Good luck,” Foggy said, but she had already gone.

  He sighed again, and laid his head on the desk. What the fuck. What the fuck was his life?

  After that things just kept happening. Karen tried to show him an article about people discovering latent superpowers - he freaked out a little bit, tried to cover it up poorly. Then a client came in - an actual paying client. And he couldn’t turn them away, because they needed help, and someone had to make some money around here and it definitely wasn’t going to be Murdock.

  Finally they closed up for the evening. After avoiding a watchful and concerned Karen, he debated over whether or not to go see Matt. His feet were already taking him there before he decided. But Matt didn’t answer the door, of course. Foggy had a key, but he didn’t use it. He didn’t even know if Matt was home - it would be getting dark soon, maybe he had gotten an early start. Or whatever it was superpowered vigilantes did in their free time.

  So he went home and looked up the article Karen had shown him about latent superpowers, and fell asleep at his computer after reading through pages and pages of scientific technobabble and theories about how superpowers worked. He was on a trendy local news website that was discussing the multiple heroes residing in New York and their various abilities - there was some debate over whether the local hero of Hell’s Kitchen actually had powers or not. Some people thought he had enhanced strength, or reflexes, or maybe healing - or some other more subtle, invisible power, while others thought he was just a good fighter.

  Foggy halfway wished he could log on and leave an anonymous comment:

_Hey, I’m Daredevil’s best friend, and I happen to know for a fact he has superpowers! Enhanced senses - hearing, smell, touch, taste - but not sight, cuz get this, he’s BLIND. But everything else - way beyond normal. He can hear heartbeats across a room, tell if you’re lying. Smell a gun in your pants three blocks down. Can taste fear and feel the air current changing from a fart in the next room. Oh and also he might be telekinetic? And possibly able to teleport. You people probably know better than I do, and I’ve known the guy for years!_

  Instead, he looked at some of the videos people had managed to capture of Matt running around on rooftops or beating the shit out of criminals - and he realized Matt never used telekinesis or teleported or anything wacky like that in any of his fights. Foggy wasn’t sure what that meant - maybe this was a recent development. He was still thinking about it when his head drooped forward, his heavy eyelids fell shut and he passed out still sitting at his computer.

 

  When he woke up the next morning - thank god he had a permanent alarm set on his phone - his computer was still open to the news website. He was about to close his laptop when something in the sidebar caught his eye. It was another article about Daredevil, published just now.

  So, apparently, while Foggy had been deliberating over how to talk to Matt and reading stupid articles all night, Matt had gone on a rampage and killed two people in the night. And now was being suspected for an additional group of mysterious deaths the night before.

  And then he was all fear and anger and trembling and sorrow and being torn apart as his feet took him to Matt’s, so many emotions rioting that he didn’t even know what he was going to say when he started knocking on Matt’s door. There wasn’t an answer for a moment, so he knocked again.

  He heard a thud, like someone falling. Then the sound of Matt’s voice, too quiet for Foggy to make out what he was saying.

  He didn’t have time for this. He took his key out and shakily put it in the lock.

  When he stepped into the apartment, the first thing he noticed was the mess. Everything was out of place. Furniture shoved askew, clothes and books and bedding strewn across the floor, cabinets open, food and dishes piled on counters or spread on the kitchen floor - some dishes broken, or food spilling out on the tile - there was a dent in the wall from something being thrown or punched in.

  Matt was standing by the counter, holding onto it for dear life.

  “Foggy, you need to leave,” his voice was strained, tight. The cut on his head was still there - it hadn’t been stitched or bandaged, or even cleaned up at all. He looked tired, stressed, pale.

  Then suddenly he smiled. Not his normal, soft Matt Murdock grin - it was a wide smile, stretching unfamiliarly across his face. Foggy took a step back, then summoned his courage and asked what he came here to ask.

  “Matt, what the hell happened last night?”

  Matt cocked his head, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Great - did he not remember last night? What was going on in that head? Foggy’s eyes glanced across the mess again - had Matt lost it, for real?

  “Did you kill those guys?” the question grated against his throat, the words scraping his lips as he said them. But he had to say them.

  Matt answered too quick, “How do you know about that?”

  Yes. That was a yes. A confession. Admission of guilt. Foggy wanted to throw up.

  "How do I - it's all over the news! Matt - what in fucking hell? One had a giant gaping hole in his face! And I don't even know what you did to the other one, the cops can't even figure it out!"

  Then Matt asked what day it was, frowning in confusion, and Foggy knew he was fucked. Matt was fucked. This was all fucked. Matt was saying something, trying to explain to Foggy, but Foggy knew Matt couldn’t explain. Something had happened to Matt, something Foggy couldn’t fix. Something had snapped. Foggy really was going to throw up. He knew Matt would never kill someone. He _knew_ that. He knew that, right? So what had happened? What had changed? Could getting hit in the head do that to you? His eyes crept over the mess in the apartment again. Something was obviously happening to Matt. Before he could think about it anymore, though, things got even _more_ fucked.

  “Just let me tell him. I’ll do a better job,” Matt said suddenly, but something was different. His voice was different.

  Matt’s face twisted up for a moment, and then after a second he spoke again.

  “You shut up. I got this. Azirale! So formal - just call me Az.”

  Matt was talking to...himself? Foggy’s eyes danced around the apartment - they were alone. Could Matt hear someone else that Foggy couldn’t? What was going on?

  “Matt?” he asked, voice cracking.

  Matt’s head tilted towards him, and his entire body relaxed. He let go of the counter and rolled his shoulders, “Yeah, you already know him. Let me introduce myself. Name’s Azirale - but I kind of like the sound of just Az, don’t you?”

  And then Matt smiled that creepy, unnatural smile again - and his eyes went _black_. Completely black. Like a shark’s. Or something. Something evil. Foggy stumbled back, and Matt laughed. He _cackled_. Threw his head back, stiffly, like a puppet, and howled with laughter. And that’s when Foggy knew it wasn’t Matt. He knew this wasn’t Matt right now. He had no clue what the _fuck_ was going on, but this wasn’t Matt. It was...someone else. Matt could get clocked by sledgehammer and get the powers of all the Avengers combined and he would still be Matt. Not whatever this was.

  Anger welled up inside Foggy, pushing the fear and confusion back, overwhelming it with concern. He clenched his fists and took a planted his shaky legs on the floor.

  “Who are you?” he shouted.

  Matt - _not Matt_ \- looked at him with those black, black eyes, still smiling that smile.

  “I just told you - I’m Az.”

  “What did you do to Matt?”

  “Oh, he’s still here. Somewhere in here - I think he just kind of checked out a moment ago. Not sure what he’s up to right now. I’m more interested in you!” Not-Matt - _Az,_ whoever that was - pointed a finger at Foggy’s chest.

  “Leave Matt alone.”

  “No, that’s not happening. He’s far too much fun. Are you going to entertain me too, or just be a bore? So far it seems you’re just going to be a bore.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I told you - I’m Azirale.”

  “Yeah, I heard you. But _what_ are you?”

  “Oh! I’m a demon. Heard about your friend here calling himself the Devil and decided to check it out myself. Things didn’t go according to plan, but they’re turning out to be far more gratifying than I thought, so it’s a win-win.”

  “I don’t see how this is a win for Matt. Are you controlling his body?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes he takes control back. It’s a give-take relationship.”

  Foggy thought back to Matt seizing up in his office, trying to tell Foggy something, then leaving in a rush - that had been Matt. And just a few moments ago - he told Foggy to leave. So Matt was still in there somewhere. With this _thing_.

  This thing that was strolling to the couch and slumping onto the cushions like it owned the place.

  “Sorry about the mess - I wasn’t thinking about company when I went through Matt’s things. He has a wall in here,” Az tapped Matt’s forehead, “His mind is locked up tighter than a nun’s cootch. Can’t get much information out of there, so I tried going through his things, but braille is such a chore to read. Especially when he won’t help at all. But maybe you can just tell me about him. He’s got a lot of strange memories - they’re hard to sort out. And is he, by any chance, Catholic? That would just be deliciously ironic.”

  Foggy was rooted to his spot, staring at Matt - Az - his best friend, sitting on the couch, prattling on in someone else’s voice. Because it wasn’t Matt’s voice, no matter how close it sounded. Whoever was in Matt’s body seemed to be very full of themselves. They kept talking and talking, and the whole time Foggy couldn’t think of one thing to do to help Matt. Call the Avengers? He didn’t know who else dealt with this sort of thing. This had to be some superpowered wacko with messed up powers, right? No way it was actually a demon.

  While the thing kept rambling on, Matt’s hands picked up a knife laying on the floor near the couch. There were a lot silverware laying around the general vicinity, as if Az had just chucked the contents of the drawer over the counter. Then Foggy saw the actual drawer laying a short distance away, and realized they had thrown the entire drawer over the counter.

  “See? Like this? Matt’s doing this - do you know why? I don’t really care - can’t feel pain, but it’s weird, right? You picked quite a nut job for a friend,” Az said, watching with detached interest as Matt starting pricking the palm of his hand with the knife.

  Foggy perked up - that was Matt? Moving his hands, cutting himself with the tip of the knife. Was Matt aware Foggy was there? Was it some sort of message? Or was he just trying to attack the person controlling his body? For a terrible moment Foggy was afraid he would use the knife to slit his wrists - Matt would surely hate the idea of someone using his body to kill people. He would see suicide as a necessary sacrifice, or something. But no, he just kept pricking the palm of his hand, over and over. Az watched for a few seconds, then shrugged and focused on Foggy again.

  “I got most of the basic information on you when Matt passed out - but everything else has been kind of dodgy. I saw a memory of a boxer - like, actually saw it. So Matt wasn’t always blind? How did that happen?”

  “It’s none of your business,” Foggy hissed, clenching his fists so his nails dug into his palm. He felt so helpless. He didn’t know what to do, but stand there and seethe in rage.

  Not-Matt frowned, “See, this is what I meant by a bore. Which is what you’re being, by the way.”

  “I won’t let you have Matt.”

  Az laughed, a laugh that was distinictly not Matt’s.

  “I’d like to see what you’re going to do about it, little mortal.”

  Foggy opened his mouth, then choked on his empty words. There was nothing he could do. Not now. Not by himself.

  Az-Matt stood and stalked over to Foggy, their smile becoming dangerous. They stopped Matt’s body just a few inches away from him - he could feel Matt’s breath on his neck.

  “That’s what I thought,” it said.

  Foggy grit his teeth.

  Then suddenly Matt’s hand darted out and grabbed Foggy’s sleeve, wrapping tightly around his wrist, squeezing so hard he was sure it would leave a bruise.

  “Oh, hello,” Az said in surprise, looking at the hand grabbing Foggy with raised eyebrows.

  Then suddenly Foggy was standing back on the street outside, Matt’s building to his back.

  He stumbled a bit, surprised to find himself suddenly on the sidewalk. Matt wasn’t anywhere in sight - had he just teleported Foggy out? Had Matt teleported him away, or had that other thing? Either way, Foggy wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to leave Matt alone, not like this. He rushed back to the door, but when he lifted his hand to open the door, he noticed something on his sleeve. It was bloodstains, from the cuts Matt had pricked into his own palm with the knife. Several small dots, arranged in a pattern. Some of them were spreading into each other, but Foggy still recognized it.

  Braille.

  Matt had pricked braille into his own flesh, then given it to Foggy with his blood. A message.

  Foggy fumbled for his phone, careful not to smear the blood on his sleeve, then took a photo before anything happened and the message was lost. Then he looked at the dots - he had tried to learn braille back in college, but never could pick it up. After looking up a Braille translation page on google, he figured out what Matt had been trying to tell him, in the only way he could.

  “Father Lantom.”

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt experiences some heartache.

  Matt hoped Foggy understood the message. He knew he would be able to translate the braille - Father Lantom - but he hoped Foggy would understand what Matt wanted him to do. What he needed. An exorcism.

  “There you go again! What was all that about? I thought you had checked out,” Azirale asked, moving to the window to search the street below for Foggy. Matt had teleported him to the other side of the building, though - they wouldn’t be able to see him from here. He still wasn’t absolutely certain how he was accessing these demonic powers. It was more an intense feeling of focused intent, and then things just happened. But he had managed to get Foggy out. And he hoped - prayed - that Foggy would have the sense to go to the church instead of coming back inside. He needed Father Lantom. And he needed Foggy far, far away from Azirale.

  “What’s up with the self-mutilation?” Azirale said, holding up their hand and studying the dots.

  Matt panicked for a moment, but he concentrated on keeping his wall up so Azirale - or _Az_ \- wouldn’t know. He couldn’t let the demon figure out what Matt was planning.

  “What’s up with the cute nickname? Az?”

  Az harrumphed, successfully distracted.

  “I think it sounds cool,” they whined.

  “It sounds a lot like ass. Which is fitting.”

  “AZ. Zzzz! You have to pronounce the Z,” Az huffed, walking Matt’s body back towards the couch and flopping onto the cushions with a sigh.

  “Your friend Foggy was _not_ very entertaining. Annoyingly loyal and conscientious. The righteous fury and utter helplessness was an interesting combination, though. He smells nice. I mean, I already knew that - but he obviously hadn’t showered before coming over here. Do you choose your friends based on their natural body odor? You have to have a different basis for meeting people other than their looks, after all,” Az was rambling, mentally poking at Matt’s mental wall.

  But Matt had always been good at dividing and conquering. And now that he had a plan, he could focus again. He let part of his wall crumble at Az’s words, letting a few memories of meeting people in bars, at college, on dates, seep through - he let his first impressions and sensations ooze through the wall, tantalizing Az with the detailed memories. They jumped at the bait.

  “So! The scent has something to do with it! Oh, she smelled nice. And you really can smell _everything_ , can’t you?”

  Matt put up a seemingly feeble attempt at a mental block, but in reality he let Azirale into the small space of memories to explore and dissect at their leisure. While the demon was busy in his head, Matt concentrated his true attention elsewhere - his hands. The bloody braille message was still there, cut into his skin. He knew Az couldn’t read braille on their own, not without accessing Matt’s knowledge. And Matt could block him on that - but the demon could figure it out on their own if they put enough effort into it. He needed to erase the message. Easier said than done - the letters were literally carved in flesh and blood. He couldn’t just erase it. But he could disguise it.

  While Az was preoccupied, Matt picked up the knife and began pricking his palm again. He just needed to add a few more dots to make the letters meaningless patterns. It was strange, to feel the pressure of the knife on his skin, piercing it, drawing blood - but no pain. He guessed that was a pro to being possessed by a demonic spirit. He shook his head - he _could not_ think like that. There were no _pros_ to this. Or rather, he tried to shake his head. The movement played out jerky and stiff - he wasn’t in full command of his body. The sudden action drew Az’s attention.

  “What are you doing? What’s with the knife again?’

  “Testing.”

  “Testing…?”

  “Pain response. Healing. Seeing what these demon powers can do.”

  “No pain doesn’t equal healing. You’re still messing your body up.”

  Matt slowly placed the knife on the table, “Good to know.”

  “But you seem to have a pretty good grasp on the rest of this - teleporting, telekinesis, super strength. It’s pretty nice, right?”

  “No,” Matt answered. His heart jumped.

  Az pulled his face into a grin.

  “ _No_ ,” Matt repeated. His heart remained steady.

  Az pulled his lips into a pout.

  “Well, I think it’s nice. Especially in your body - we’ve got a lot of potential. We make a good team.”

  “No, we don’t. We’re dangerous.”

  “Are you still upset that we killed those bastards?”

  Matt felt something twist deep inside him - not in his body, but in his soul. He tried not to focus on it; he didn’t need to wallow in guilt right now. There would be time for that later.

  “Of course I’m upset. I said no killing.”

  Az sighed, cutting off the end of Matt’s sentence. It was inconvenient for both sides of a conversation to be coming from the same mouth, but it felt more comfortable to talk out loud than for the conversation to be happening in his head. It made him feel a little more sane.

  “Okay, fine. No more killing, _I promise_. Can we go now?”

  Matt balked, “We’re not going anywhere!”

  “I said no more-”

  “It’s early morning. Daredevil goes out at night.”

  “But he’s been known to make special appearances.”

  “Not today.”

  “Are you seriously going to make us sit motionless in your floor for hours again? That was so boring!”

  Matt settled down, stiffly crossing his legs, resisting the hum of energy in his limbs that made him want to run, to jump, to climb the walls. He was stronger than this.

 

 

  He was not stronger than this.

  He wouldn’t let Az put the mask on and jump out the window, but he couldn’t stop the demon from pacing the apartment, digging through all his possessions several times over, putting on a number of Matt’s records in quick succession - breaking several by tossing them over their shoulder when they didn’t like the song.

  “Let’s go out,” Az said suddenly, crouched in the corner of the apartment wearing Jack’s old boxing gloves, listening to the neighbors two floors down argue about the health codes of Chinese fisheries. Apparently the conversation had grown old.

 _“No,”_ Matt said mentally. He was tired. So tired.

  “I don’t mean as Daredevil - let’s just go out. Your apartment is boring.”

  “And do what?” Matt decided to humor them.

  “I don’t know. Grab a bite? See a show?”

  Matt hmmed dismissively.

  “Go investigate that warehouse where we met? Where you fought all the guys under the spell.”

  That got Matt’s attention, “What?”

  “You know - when I possessed you. Weren’t you looking into Bouvois’ warehouse?”

  “You know about Bouvois?”

  Az grinned, “I know more than you.”

 _“And I’ll let you in on all of it, if we go out,”_ they finished in Matt’s mind.

  Matt hesitated.

  “Just to check things out,” Matt finally acquiesced.

  “Just to check things out,” Az agreed earnestly.

 

 

  A cool breeze whispered through the warm air and brush against Matt’s bare skin. It felt odd to be out in the city so exposed; usually he was in the Daredevil suit - which didn’t exactly breathe well - or in a stiff lawyer suit that breathed even less. Right now they were wearing jeans and a soft t-shirt that Matt recognized by touch. Az had scattered all his clothes on the floor, rendering the braille tagging system useless. This outfit wasn’t exactly fashionable or protective, but at least he knew it looked okay. He didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention.

  “We’re out. Tell me about Bouvois, and those men,” Matt said into empty air.

  They were sitting on a bench across the street from the warehouse, glasses on and cane resting against one leg. A few cars drove past, but the street wasn’t a very busy one. There were a few people a couple buildings down, unloading a truck and carrying boxes into another warehouse. A homeless man was asleep in the bus stop a few yards away. Everything seemed very innocuous. Including the warehouse across the street. It was empty.

  Completely empty. It was a void.

  Matt concentrated his senses into the warehouse, but couldn’t pick up anything - not even the echo of a large empty room. Not the smell of dust or mildew. It was a black hole, sucking his senses in and giving nothing back.

  “Well, she’s a witch.”

  Matt tried not to show his surprise. He didn’t really have any room for disbelief here - he was currently sharing his body with a honest-to-god demon.

  “A witch.”

  “Evangeline Bouvois. She’s kind of a bigshot. Been around awhile. She has a lot of demons in her employ. Not me, though - I never cared for working for a human like that. Even as part of a contract.”

  “And the men?”

  “Attack Dog spell. She sicced them on you.”

  The name of the Attack Dog spell was pretty self explanatory.

  “Why?”

  “I’m assuming you were turning over stones she didn’t want turned.”

  Matt had a lot of questions. What exactly were witches capable of? Were they were more powerful than demons? How had she even known Daredevil was investigating - he hadn’t made any obvious moves against her yet. Foiled some of her kidnapping schemes, perhaps, as well as her less-direct criminal enterprises - but he hadn’t made a move against her personally.

  “What’s she doing in the city?”

  Az hummed, “That I don’t know. Didn’t really want to know - still don’t. She’s up to something big, and that means we should stay out of it.”

  That was the wrong thing to say if Az wanted Matt to stay out of it. Something big, something evil, something demonic - in his city. He wasn’t going to stand aside and let that fester, not if he could do anything about it. He clenched his fist, and his heart beat a little faster. He expected Az to object, or complain, but the demon remained oddly quiet for once. Like he was studying Matt’s reaction all of the sudden.

  Matt made to stand, but Az held their body down, so they ended up just half-hopping awkwardly on the bench before sitting tensely on the edge of the seat.

  “We need to get closer - my senses can’t pick anything up from here.”

  “I thought we were just checking things out,” Az countered.

  “We are. Plus, you were the one who wanted to get out.”

  “I’m serious, Matt - we shouldn’t get involved.”

  For a moment that sounded like actual concern.

  “Then you should have stayed behind,” Matt mumbled, forcing their body to rise and take a step towards the warehouse.

  “ _You wonder why you can’t sense anything in there? That warehouse is safeguarded with layers and layers of spells and enchantments and wards - we aren’t going to be able to get in. Getting close won’t accomplish anything except put us in danger,”_ Azirale hissed, loud and frantic in Matt’s head.

  Matt had felt the strange aura from the building before - so that’s what magic felt like. Buzzing over his skin like wasps, washing over him like dry heat the closer he got to the building. All signs screaming at him to _stay away!_

  “I need to know what’s going on in there,” Matt stated, determined.

  “Then stake it out later tonight, or something. But please, don’t make us go any closer. We’ve already been here too long.”

  Matt’s stunned for a moment. Az was actually asking him to do this - not threatening, not taking over his body, not making some snide remark - but asking. Begging. It threw him off guard.

  “Yeah, good idea,” Matt said. Half because, yeah, it was a good idea - as much as he hated to admit it, Az knew more about magic and spells and demons than Matt. If Bouvois really was a witch, Matt would need Az’s knowledge to get to the bottom of this.

  And half because, well - Az said please. Matt didn’t know how to respond to such an earnest, honest request from a demon. He was so stunned, in fact, that at first he didn’t register the fact that someone was walking out of the warehouse. Az noticed immediately, and flipped them behind the bench with a curse, ducking behind the ugly, metal thing - heart beating nearly out of their chest.

 _“Who’s that?”_ Matt asked.

 _“Another demon. One of Bouvois’ minions,”_ Az answered _._

  The demon was housed in the body of a heavy-set woman wearing a leather jacket. Matt recognized the familiar signs of demon possession - steady heartbeat, stinking of sulfur and blood, and now that he knew what magic felt like, he could sense a similar sensation coming off of this woman. Demon. Whatever.

  But now that he had Azirale, he didn’t need any of that to determine the woman was possessed - he could distinguish between the demon and its human vessel. The demon was a swirling mass of darkness, a negative space in Matt’s sense. It stank like dead bodies, smoke, sulfur and rotten blood. There was a second form overlaying the woman’s body, insubstantial, like a mist or a shroud, but that pulsed and seethed with some form of life - it was the furthest thing from human Matt had ever witnessed. With a sick feeling, he realized he was the same as this woman. There was the disgusting, seething, darkness within himself, as well.

 _“Yeah, we’re not lovely to look at,”_ Az said, “ _But I guess you can’t really look at us.”_

 _“Same difference. Why haven’t I....I never noticed you, in that way,”_ Matt replied mentally.

 _“That’s because we have a special connection,”_ Az joked, but without his usual enthusiasm.

  The demon on the steps of the warehouse had paused in its descent, sniffing the air and moving its head around, looking for something. It had sensed them.

  “ _We need to go,”_ Az said.

  For once, Matt agreed.

  Matt felt his skin prickle, tingling like static on the radio, and his gut drop as they teleported - he prepared himself for the dizzying sensation of suddenly appearing in a different location.

  But they didn’t move.

  “Az?” Matt whispered aloud. The demon on the steps was staring at their hiding spot, “Why aren’t we going?”

  “I can’t.”

  “What?”

  “I think...I think she has more wards on the street, not just the warehouse.”

  “Are we trapped here?”

  “No - we’ll just have to do this the old fashioned way. At least until we get out of the area she’s enchanted.”

  The demon on the steps was walking towards them.

  “The old fashioned way, then,” Matt said, and he and Azirale nodded in unison.

  Together they sprinted out from behind the bench, tearing down the street at superhuman speed. The demon shouted something out and immediately gave pursuit.

  Unfortunately, whatever spell was preventing Matt and Az from teleporting didn’t seem to affect her. She suddenly appeared in front of them, clotheslining them with an arm that felt like it was made of iron. Matt’s body slammed into the ground, then quickly rolled to the side as the demon’s foot came down to stomp their ribs. Instead, she just left a small crack in the pavement. They hopped to their feet, slowly moving to the side, circling the other demon with a growl. She circled right back, moving to mirror their own movements. She grinned.

  “We just want to leave,” Az said, and their fingers twitched.

  “Then you shouldn’t have come here in the first place. How do we know you aren’t working for Crowley?”

  “We?” Matt asked, then as if on cue two more demons appeared. One of was in the body of a tall, slim male, the other was short but well-muscled. They both lunged for Matt at the same moment, but Matt and Az leapt into the air, kicking off the short one’s shoulder and launching away from the ambush. They landed with a roll, then were immediately running again. The three demons - Stocky, Slim, and Shortstack - followed. Matt and Az fell into that now familiar rhythm whenever they were fighting or running, their minds and muscles falling in sync, working together effortlessly. There weren’t any walls here - they couldn’t afford them.

  Slim caught up to Matt/Az and tried to tackle them, but they ducked beneath the clumsy swipe and delivered a kick to the demon’s stomach - Slim stumbled back, but then Stocky was there, her fist coming down towards Matt’s face. Their arms came up and caught her wrist, but couldn’t stop the downward momentum. Instead, they redirected the blow over their shoulder and came up beneath her, flipping her body over their back and slamming her to the ground.

  Something rang behind them - grating metal and bells - a knife. They heard the blade being flipped out, held in the hands of Shortstack. The demon lunged at Matt’s back with the knife, but Matt/Az fell forward into a roll and dodged the attack. Unfortunately, Stocky’s hand reached out and snagged Matt’s ankle before they could spring back to their feet, causing them faceplant into the sidewalk.

  Behind them, Shortstack was tripping forward, overbalanced by their lunge with the knife. The demon fell, readjusting their grip on the knife as they came down towards Matt’s prone figure. Matt/Az tried to roll away, but Stocky had a better grip on their leg now, and Slim had his boot pressing down on Matt’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground.

  Matt felt the cold metal pierce the skin of his back, slide through his muscle, glance off his ribs, sink through his heart, come back out his chest and clink against the pavement. He felt the blade stab through his heart. He felt it - but it didn’t hurt.

  “Idiot! Stabbing him in the heart won’t do anything - cut his tendons, so he can’t run,” Stocky was saying.

  “Don’t mess up a good vessel for no reason - we just need the demon,” Slim said.

  “He’s already messed up,” Stocky said.

  “Sorry,” Shortstack said, obviously not sorry.

  Matt couldn’t focus on their voices, their words. He couldn’t focus on what he could hear - only on what he couldn’t. His heartbeat, always there, steady and strong - was silent. His heart wasn’t pumping. His veins had stopped coursing. The air had left from his lungs. He felt himself getting smaller, fading from his body with a buzzing scream echoing in the space around him.

  The world outside was just as loud as always - but inside, everything had gone silent.

  “Huurrggnnn!” suddenly Az was growling, then roaring, summoning a burst of strength and throwing the demons off Matt’s body with a shout. They lifted Matt’s body up off the ground, the blood covering his chest squelching slightly, making his t-shirt stick to his skin. Matt didn’t know what Az was doing - he just let them do it. He couldn’t do anything else. He was...dead? He was dead. His body was dead, at least. He was still here, somehow.

  Az was fighting. They grabbed Slim’s leg and snapped it across their knee like firewood. Stocky was on them instantly, but Az threw her again - this time pointedly slamming her head into the ground, snapping her neck. When she fell to the ground, Az stomped on her lower back and ground his foot in until they heard another snap.

  Shortstack was back with the knife, this time swiping towards Matt’s legs.

  Matt joined Az in the fight, more out of habit than anything. His mind wasn’t present, he wasn’t really there, it was just muscle memory. But he was there, helping move his cold, dead muscles as they jabbed his fingers into Shortstack’s eyes. His other hand grabbed the hand holding the knife and twisted it around until the bones in the wrist screamed and the knife fell from spasming fingers. Az caught the knife and brought Matt’s knee up into Shortstack’s gut, bending him double and slashing at the backs of his knees.

  Fighting demons wasn’t about causing pain, it was about physical incapacitation. Their bodies wouldn’t stop moving until they were broken. To them, the human body was just a delicate machine - snap the right wires, break the right gears, and it won’t operate correctly, no matter how much power you course into it. Apparently, a beating heart wasn’t necessary to keep the machine moving - not nearly as important as hamstrings.

  When the demons didn’t get back up - though they tried, their bodies just wouldn’t work in tandem with their wishes - Az bolted.

  Matt felt his muscles pulling and pushing, tensing beneath his skin like everything was normal. Like blood wasn’t oozing from his chest - not spurting or coursing, because his heart wasn’t beating. It was just spilling out, like a broken milk carton. He was vaguely aware when the slight buzzing sensation left the air around them - he hadn’t noticed it when they first approached the warehouse, it was so slight. But now that he knew to look for it, he could tell they just left the area influenced by Bouvois’ enchantment.

  “Matt, you there?” Az asked, panting.

  That was weird, Matt thought abstractly - demons didn’t get out of breath.

  “ _Matt?_ ” Az was in his mind, searching for Matt.

  Matt didn’t want them in there.

  “I’m dead, aren’t I?” he said, clumsily, his words slurred.

  “Your body is - but you’re still here,” Az said, sounding...relieved?

  “How…” Matt trailed off, but Az answered anyway.

  “It’s because I’m possessing you. As long as I’m here, your body won’t die. You won’t die.”

  “And if you leave?”

  “Then you’ll die - all of you will die - pretty much immediately.”

  Matt swallowed - and he actually swallowed, he could still do that. His body was still obeying him. Still moving. Functioning, somehow. It made no sense.

  “How? How am I -”

  “This isn’t science. It’s a curse. Don’t ask how it works - you should just be grateful.”

  “I should be grateful that you got me killed?” Matt felt anger surge through him.

  “Grateful that I’m keeping you alive. That I got us out of there,” Az answered, their tone just as biting.

  Matt wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something until his knuckles bled. He wanted to give into the rising panic clawing at the edge of his mind, to the rage and grief and anger at how unfair this was and how stupid he was. He wanted Az to have a physical form so he could strangle the demon. He wanted to go back and kill the demons that had done this him.

  Instead, he just said, “Let’s go home.”

  The world spun around him for a moment, then he was standing back in the familiar confines of his apartment. There was his counter, his cabinets. Smelling of coffee ground and beer. The refrigerator humming its same old tune. His couch. His table. His bed.

  Foggy.

  Father Lantom.

  “Matt?”

  “Foggy?” Matt rasped, but suddenly something was splashing against his skin, burning like acid, biting and chewing him up like tiny, toxic teeth. He and Azirale let out a shout, falling to their knees.

  “Wha...what?” Matt panted.

  He heard it now - water, sloshing in a small bottle Father Lantom was holding. The priest’s heart was beating rapidly, his breathing tight and constricted as he faced Matt. Flung the water towards Matt again, and the burning returned - was his priest attacking him with acid?  He couldn’t think straight - he couldn’t think past the pain, past his panic, past his fear.

  Az could, though.

  “Stop it, you decrepit old bastard, you don’t know what-” Az started, but Lantom splashed them again, and they let out a howl and slammed their head to the ground, fingers clenched up in Matt’s hair.

  “Wait, you’re hurting him!” Foggy’s voice cut through the pain, trembling and afraid.

  “It won’t hurt Matt, only the demon,” Father Lantom answered, “We need to start the exorcism, before it has a chance to do any more harm.”

 _“Fuck. You really are Catholic,”_ Az hissed in Matt’s mind.

  Matt’s mind finally snapped back into place - his plan had worked. Foggy had gone to his church and convinced Father Lantom to come help. He had arranged an exorcism. It was all going just as Matt had hoped.

  Right now, though, he echoed Az’s sentiments.

  “Fuck.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt's plan to get an exorcism worked; now they need a new plan to NOT get exorcised - while they're being exorcised

  Azirale couldn’t believe this.  Matt really was Catholic, and that Catholicism was about to get them both killed. Or rather, it was going to kill Matt - and Azirale was going to end back up in hell. They really,  _ really  _ didn’t want either of those things to happen.  However, in between getting splashed with holy water and dealing with Matt’s confusion and panic, not to mention their own, it was hard to get a word in edgewise. 

  When Matt was stabbed through the heart, Az felt the cold fear run through Matt, as well as the man’s life flickering out like a candle. Matt’s panic closing in like waves of cold water pounding into them, burying them deeper in the frigid, weightless void. For a moment Az had been excited because this was  _ it -  _ this was what they had felt before! This was what they wanted to feel again - that thrill of human emotion. But their excitement didn’t last long, because this emotion was _ horrible _ . It wasn’t exciting, or gripping, it didn’t fill Az with that heady, buzzing energy. It made them feel afraid, and helpless, and just -  _ nothing.  _

  And then Az felt something else - anger. Fury. Desperation. And...protectiveness?   Mostly things they had experienced before, as a demon - but something had been different this time. The emotions hadn’t come from Matt, they had come from Az, themself. 

  But they couldn’t ponder what had just happened - they needed to focus on what was happening right now. 

  Which was - imminent doom. 

  The priest wasn’t experienced with exorcisms. He probably hadn’t ever performed one before - at least not by himself. But he did seem fairly knowledgeable about demons.  For some reason, they couldn’t jump out of the apartment. Then they tasted it in the air - salt. Great. But at least it wasn’t a Devil’s Trap.

_   What….what do we do?  _ Matt’s voice interrupted Az’s thoughts. They were on their elbows and knees, trembling and burning from that last dousing of holy water. Az wasn’t sure if Matt was asking them, or just wondering to himself. 

  “You get your fucking priest to stop killing us, is what!” Az hissed back, causing both Foggy and Father Lantom’s heart rates to pick up. 

  “Father - the blood,” Foggy says, somewhere to their right. 

  Lantom pauses. Matt takes a shuddering breath. 

  “Where’s all that blood coming from?” Foggy asks, voice cracking. 

  Lantom doesn’t answer.

  In the brief reprieve of holy water attacks, Az realized they were somewhere in between Matt’s couch and his kitchen. Foggy had been standing behind the counter the whole time, but now he was circling around, drawing closer to Matt. 

  “Matt, are you there?” Foggy asked, taking a step closer to where Matt’s body was crouched on the floor.

  Az stayed quiet and let Matt answer. 

  “Foggy...you can’t -” Matt begins, but is suddenly interrupted by the priest.

  “Christo!”

  Matt and Az wince, hissing between gritted teeth. Az knows their eyes just flashed black - it’s an involuntary response. Foggy gasped and stepped back, and Az felt an opportunity slip out of their hands.

  “Foggy, you can’t let it deceive you. It will speak to you in Matt’s voice, trick you into helping it. We can’t trust anything it says.”

  “But Matt’s in there somewhere! What if he was trying to tell us something?”

  “That wasn’t Matthew, Foggy.”

  “No, I talked to him earlier! It wasn’t the demon then, it was Matt. I know it was.”

  “And Matt told you to come to me - we’re doing the right thing. We’re helping Matthew.”

  Foggy was quiet, uncertain. In front of Matt, there was the sound of pages rustling. The smell of old leather and parchment, incense. 

  “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…”

  Az screamed, clapping Matt’s hands over his ears, but that did next to nothing. The priest continued the exorcism, Foggy’s heart continued to pound, and Matt continued to be dead. And if they didn’t do anything in the next minute, that would become a permanent state for Matt, and Az would be rotting in hell once again.  So Az gathered their strength, and flailed out an arm towards the priest - the little book he was holding went flying against the wall will a small thud. The damning words stopped.

_   “Matt, you gotta convince these idiots to stop or we’re both fucked,”  _ Az hissed in their mind.

  “Father...wait,” Matt said weakly, drawing himself up so he was kneeling, looking in the general direction of the priest. He was shaking. “Foggy’s telling the truth...it’s me…I need you to listen…”

  “Matt?” Foggy asked tentatively.

  “Christo!” Lantom barked, and Matt hissed again, flinching away from the priest’s voice.

  “Nelson, don’t give into its deception. We must remain strong.”

  “Foggy...you know about Stick...he trained me...for this…” Matt panted.

  “What?” Foggy asked, voice high and pained. 

  Lantom had the book again.

  “...omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…”

  Az and Matt howled, bucking back towards the ground again. Then Matt’s hands were scrabbling over their shoulders, gripping his shirt with clumsy, shaking fingers and pulling it over his head. The fabric was slick with blood, cold and wet as it slid across their chest. 

  “Holy shit,” Foggy gasped as the shirt came off, revealing Matt’s bruised and battered torso, and the gaping stab wound through his heart. Finally, Father Lantom’s voice faltered.

  “If you get rid of Az...I die,” Matt said through ragged breaths. 

  No one spoke for a moment. 

  Then Lantom began the exorcism again. 

  “Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te…”

  “Stop! What are you doing?” Foggy shouted, voice strained, wet with tears. 

  “Franklin…”

  “Look at him! He’s...you can’t…”

  “He’s dead, Foggy.”

  “No, he’s not! He just spoke to us!”

  “Matthew is dead, Foggy. He’s gone. Only his body remains.”

  “No,” Matt rasped, “It’s me. I swear.”

  Az sat in Matt’s body, waiting, observing. They knew if they spoke up, it would only make things worse. They would just have to trust Matt on this. They were banking on Foggy right now - if they could convince Foggy, Foggy could stop the priest.  But if worse came to worse, Az figured they could take the priest down. If they just waited for the right moment, it would be over before the priest realized what was happening. He had made a big mistake by forgetting to add a Devil’s Trap. 

  “No,” Matt whispered, sternly, “I got this.”

  Foggy and Lantom’s attention zeroed in on Matt.

  “Matt? You say something, buddy?”

  “ _ Shut up,”  _ Az said in Matt’s mind.

  Matt did not shut up.

  “Azirale wants to attack you. They’re just waiting - but they won’t...because  _ I’m _ in charge.”

  Az tsked - debatable. But he would let it stand, because their lives - or what remained of their lives - depended on it.

  “Foggy - I told you about Stick,” Matt’s voice was weak, but getting stronger. And Lantom hadn’t started the exorcism again.

  “Uh-huh,” Foggy said dumbly. Trepidatious. 

  “I told you...I meditate. Stick taught me that. He taught me...how to protect my mind. In case...something like this ever happened.”

  “In case you were ever possessed by a demon?” Foggy screeched.

  “Foggy -” Lantom reached out towards Foggy, but Foggy was getting worked up. 

  “Not a demon, exactly. Just in case...my mind was ever...compromised.”

  Foggy ran a hand through his hair, “Okay. Okay. This is crazy. But it makes sense.”

  “Franklin!” Lantom said, sharp. “It’s lying!”

  “No - this makes sense. Earlier, Matt couldn’t remember where his office was. He couldn’t read braille. And when I came over, this...this thing was talking to me. And it said it couldn’t get into Matt’s mind. That he had a...a wall.”

  “But we’ve seen it, Foggy,” Lantom’s voice was gentle, the same voice people used to tell someone a loved one had died. “It says Matthew is in control - but you admitted that when you spoke to it earlier, it was not Matthew. And the news reports...that wasn’t Matt, either. And look,” Lantom gestured towards Matt, “I know you don’t want to accept this Foggy. But Matthew is dead. The evidence is right in front of us.”

  “We...share,” Matt said, flinching at his own words. “Those men...I did it, I killed them...we killed them...but I wanted to. They shot that woman and I….I let the devil out.”

  These words seemed to have some effect on the priest, who hesitated for a moment. Whatever Matt was doing, it seemed to be working.

  “If you exorcise Azirale...then I’ll die. Another demon stabbed me, and -”

  “Wait, there’s _ more _ demons?” Foggy - incredulous.

  Matt swallowed. Nodded. “A lot more.”

  Lantom finally seemed to come to some sort of decision. With slow, regretful hands, he closed his little book. Az couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

  “Perhaps this is beyond my realm of expertise. We may need outside help,” Lantom said.

  “Like -more church people? Is the young priest coming?”

  “Most of my church have relegated demons to the metaphysical realm. Despite what Hollywood would have you believe, being a priest doesn’t make you an expert in exorcism. It’s a very dangerous and unstable process - it was foolish of me to attempt one alone.”

  “So...who’s ‘outside help’?”

  “Someone I haven’t talked to in a long, long time,” Lantom sighed wearily, running a hand down his face. “I don’t want to discuss it here, in front of…” he trailed off, but Azirale knew he was giving Matt a significant look.

  “Stay here with him. I have a call to make.”

  “So you do believe it’s Matt? Or do you still think he’s...dead?”

  “I think God may have blessed us with a miracle during this accursed time. So yes, I think Matthew is still alive. I’ll leave this with you - if anything happens, do what you must.”

  Lantom sat his bottle of holy water and his little book on the counter, and moved towards the door.

  “Wait - you’re leaving? You want me to stay here alone?”

  “We don’t have much of a choice. How much do you trust Matthew?”

  Foggy’s heart pounded, “I trust him.”

  “You trust Matthew, and I’ll trust God. Maybe things will work out for once.”

  Then the priest was gone. 

  Az assessed their body - Matthew’s body. Their shared body. Their skin still stung from where the water had splashed, and the smell of salt was strong in the air, but they were here. Matt was alive, and Az wasn’t in hell.  They let out a small, trembling cry and sank to the ground completely. Az would have been ashamed of the sound, and so would Matt - but at the moment they were both too weak and relieved to care. 

  “Whoa - Matt? Are you...are you okay? Are you….here?”

  Az lay prone on the ground, waiting for Matt to answer. Matt remained silent, though. They could feel him in their mind, in their bones - he was still present, but so, so quiet.

  “He’s still here. I think he’s in shock,” Az answered instead. Foggy instantly froze. 

  “Matt?”

  “No. Azirale.”

  Foggy’s heart started racing.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” Az groaned, pulling Matt’s body up into a sitting position. They decided to ignore Foggy. He wasn’t a threat, even if his rapid heart and wheezing breath was annoying.

  “Matt. You there? Matt, talk to your friend. I’m tired,” Az whined, futilely wiping at the blood on his chest. There was so much. 

  “I’m dead,” Matt answered, his voice much smaller than Az’s. 

  “You’re not dead - we went over this,” Az said. 

  “Matt?” Foggy asked.

  “Foggy,” Matt answered, and Foggy immediately calmed down, though he was still nowhere near relaxed.

  “Matt, what the  _ hell. _ What the fuck is going on?”

  “Foggy...I’m sorry,” Matt began, and his muscles began to tremble. His face twisted up, and Az knew he was about to cry. They could feel the corresponding physical signs that accompanied Matt’s emotions, but they couldn’t feel the actual emotions this time. It seemed the demon could only experience Matt’s human emotions in moments of extreme stress, based on prior experience. But now that they were stuck together, Az figured they had plenty of time to practice this ‘human emotion’ thing. 

  “Whoa, buddy - let’s get you cleaned up,” Foggy said, not sure what to do with Matt’s tears. 

  Matt’s fingers clumsily went to his chest, fingers brushing across the rent in his flesh above his heart. Some of the blood had dried, crusty and hard on his skin. Some was still wet and sticky, but the wound itself had stopped bleeding for the most part. 

  “It won’t heal,” Matt whispered, voice raw, “They killed me.”

  “But you’re still here, talking to me. I knew you were hard-headed, Murdock - but I didn’t realize you were so stubborn you’d refuse to die when someone stabs you in the fucking heart,” Foggy tried to joke, but his voice was thick. Soon his tears would be joining Matt’s. 

  Matt didn’t respond except to make a choked noise, so Foggy kept talking.

  “That’s what happened, right? I don’t really understand everything that’s happening right now. But you’re still alive, somehow, right? So that’s all that matters.”

  “It’s Azirale. It’s because I’m...I’m possessed. My body can’t die, as long as they’re here.”

  “They? As in, plural?”

  “No. Just one,” Matt answered.

  “Okay, well that’s good, I guess.”

  “Fucking right, it’s good,” Az muttered, not realizing they had spoken aloud until Foggy froze again. 

  “Sorry, I’ll shut up,” Az said, retreating back into Matt’s mind. They were tired. Matt could handle this.

  But Foggy spoke again.

  “No - wait. Azirale. Az.”

  “Foggy, don’t,” Matt said, but Foggy swallowed, gulping.

  “That was him, right? The demon?”

  “It was them, yeah.”

  “I want to talk to him.”

  “I’m not a ‘him,’ first of all,” Az said, cutting off Matt’s protest, “Gender is kind of a human thing, as far as I’m concerned. I’m a centuries-old, non-corporeal entity. So I would appreciate it if you’d stop calling me a ‘he.’”

  Foggy stuttered, “Oh. O-okay.”

  “Well, what did you want to say?”

  It took a moment for Foggy to regroup - but when he did, he was all business.

  “I couldn’t stop you before. But I’m more prepared now. I know what you are. And if you hurt Matt - I mean, anymore than you already have - If you mess him up, or corrupt his soul, or something like that - you’ll wish you were back in hell by the time I’m done with you.”

  Az couldn’t stop the smile that quirked their lips, “I appreciate the sentiment, the protective-dad-with-a-shotgun persona was very convincing. But I’m afraid you humans just really don’t understand how bad hell really is.”

  Foggy opened his mouth to retort, but Az held up a hand, shoulders sagging wearily.

  “But really, I get it. Trust me, I don’t want Matt any more beat up than he already is.”

  “Why?”

  Az quirked Matt’s eyebrows up, “Why what?”

  “Why don’t you want him beat up? Why do you care? Isn’t this all a game to you, or something?”

  Az sighed, “Ugh, I don’t know, not anymore. At first I was just doing it for kicks - plus it was annoying. Some prat in a red suit calling himself the Devil - with  _ horns _ -”

  “ _ Can you drop the horn thing?”  _ Matt said in their head.

  “No, Matt, I can’t drop the horns. That was the last straw,” Az turned his attention back to Foggy, “So I came over to teach your boy a lesson, but I pop in this body and all the sudden it’s just - wow. Terrible. Your friend has the worst superpowers ever. I could barely even function in his body.”

  “The world on fire thing,” Foggy supplied.

  “I guess that’s one way to describe it. Except it’s not only that, because he has this mental wall blocking everything off, and he keeps fighting me for control and talking to me and  _ feeling _ things and then I guess I started to enjoy it. It’s not every century you meet a human as interesting as this guy. But then he wants to go investigate Bouvois, of fucking course -”

  “ _ You  _ were the one who wanted to go out! And how was I supposed to know Bouvois was a witch?” Matt interrupted, cutting Az off.

  Foggy just knelt beside them, back stiff as he listened to Az prattle on, his heart rate slowly dropping as the demon rambled on. When he first spoke to Az, his heart had been drumming like a machine gun, but now he just seemed slightly on edge and...confused?

  “Wait - what about Bouvois?”

  “We went to one of the warehouses you, Karen and I traced back to Bouvois,” Matt answered, “She had more demons working for her, they’re the ones that stabbed me. Apparently, she’s a witch. The warehouse was blocked by some sort of magic, so I couldn’t tell what was inside. And two nights ago - she sent a group of men after me. After Daredevil. They were under some sort of spell.”

  “Attack Dog Spell,” Az added in.

  “Right,” Matt continued, “Attack Dog Spell. But whatever Bouvois is up to, it’s a lot bigger, and darker, than we thought.”

  Matt finished up, and suddenly Foggy was laughing. It was a hysterical laugh, and Az thought he heard some sobs mixed in there, as well. His hands went up to his eyes, wiping away tears as he continued to cackle frantically, rocking back on his heels.

  “Your friend’s lost it, Matt,” Az said.

  “Foggy?” Matt asked, ignoring Az. 

  “I’m sorry. I’m okay. What, no - of course I’m not okay. Nothing is okay. This is all so fucked up.”

  “Foggy, we’ll figure it out, I swear,” Matt began, trailing off as Foggy flapped a hand in their direction.

  “I know, I know we will. Because, man, Murdock, you’re the only person who could get possessed by a demon, stabbed in the heart and  _ killed _ , and still be worried about investigating Bouvois.”

  “She’s dangerous, Foggy,” Matt answered, pressing his lips into a thin line. 

  “Got it. But the demon possessing your body isn’t?” his voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  Before they could answer, Foggy rose to his feet and extended his hand towards Matt. 

  “Az is...I’ve got them handled,” Matt answered, still kneeling. 

  “Sure you do. You guys sound like best buds.”

  “We’re not friends,” Matt growled, reaching up and taking Foggy’s hand, hauling them off the ground. 

  “Don’t be that way, Matt,” Az said, teasing. Foggy’s hand tensed, quickly slipping out of Matt’s as he retreated a few steps.

  “Let me get you some towels, get some of that blood cleaned off,” Foggy said before fleeing into the bathroom, leaving Az and Matt standing by themselves in the middle of the living room. The residual stinging sensation from the holy water had faded, the priest was gone, and Foggy was here. And he was getting Matt towels, to clean off the blood. And Matt was here - he was present, nestled right beside Az in mind, bone and body. 

  When that demon had stabbed Matt, Azirale could have taken control. They would have, if it had been any other vessel. But instead they had coaxed Matt back, refused to let him slip away. They had panicked - not just at the thought of getting captured and tortured by Bouvois and her goons, not at the thought of being exorcised - but at the thought of losing Matt.

  Why did they care? Foggy had asked. 

  Azirale didn’t know. But they suspected it had something to do with the warm, safe feeling they felt when Foggy came back in the room, holding a pile of towels. And when Matt smiled gratefully, letting out a heart-felt “Thank you,” it wasn’t just Matt. 

  Fucking hell - what was wrong with them? 

  Azirale didn’t have an answer for that either - but they weren’t going to let it bother them. Instead they let Matt take over, and tried to get back in sync with his emotions. To really  _ feel _ what Matt was feeling. It wasn’t important to Az. They were just bored, and tired. It was just interesting, that was all. It was purely curiosity. Nothing more. 

  They wondered if Matt’s lie detector worked on them. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Winchesters, stage right

  Dean had been waiting for the phone to ring.  Just not  _ that  _ phone.

  Sam was sleeping, but the obnoxious ringtone jerked him awake, blinking and flailing slightly in the passenger seat of the Impala. 

  “Wha - what. Is that Cas?” Sam muttered, starting to register his surroundings again. 

  “No - I think it’s dad’s old phone. In the glove compartment,” Dean huffed. In other words,  _ definitely not Cas.  _ His foot sank down on the pedal and his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. Cas didn’t have John’s phone number. The only people that had that number were people with problems Dean didn’t want to get caught up in right now. 

  But Sam was already digging through the compartment, fishing out an old flip phone and answering it with a concerned - albeit confused - expression. 

  “Hello?”

  “Hello. Is this John Winchester?”

  Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, “Uh - no. This is his son, Sam. Who’s this?”

  “I - an old friend, you could say. Do you know where I can reach John?”

  “Well, uh - I’m sorry to tell you this, but - John’s dead. Has been, actually, for a few years now.”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, followed by a shuddering sigh.

  “I see.”

  The voice sounded resigned. Weary. Hopeless.

  “But, uhm, I don’t know if this helps, but - we’re in the same business as dad. My brother, Dean and I. So if there’s something you need help with…”

  Dean glared daggers at Sam, who studiously ignored him. The voice paused.

  “The same business as your father? So you’re…”

  “Hunters,” Sam supplied, sensing the caller’s hesitance. Dean’s glare intensified.

  “Right. Good. I am actually in need of your services, currently,” the voice stuttered out, “My name is Father Lantom, I’m a priest in New York, Hell’s Kitchen. I have a situation with...a demonic presence. I attempted - or began to - an exorcism, but the situation is...complicated.”

  “It always is.”

  Sam got the rest of the guy’s information while Dean roared down the highway, unaware how fast he was going until Sam hang up the phone.

  “You wanna ease up there a little, Andretti?”

  Dean obliged, but not by much. 

  “So who was the shmuck on the phone?”

  “An old friend of Dad’s - Father Lantom? Lives in Hell’s Kitchen, New York.”

  Dean chuckled - of course it was Hell’s Kitchen. As if they hadn’t been through enough hell already - literally and figuratively. 

  “A priest, huh? What does he want?”

  “A friend of his has been possessed by a demon. And then stabbed in the heart.”

  “Sorry to break it to him - but his friend is dead. Plus, he’s a priest. Shouldn’t he be okay to handle a demon on his own?”

  “Apparently not. And he insists his friend is still in there, and lucid. He mentioned something about special circumstances, but said he’d fill us in on the rest when we get there.”

  Dean gritted his teeth, “Well, he’ll be waiting for a while.”

  “Dean -”

  “No. We have our priority - we have to find Cas.”

  “We’ve been searching for weeks. There’s no trace of him.”

  “So we keep looking.”

  Sam opened his mouth to say something, changed his mind, looked out the window and muttered something to himself, then turned back to Dean. 

  “This Lantom guy said there was something else going on in Hell’s Kitchen. The demon possessing his friend wasn’t the only one there. Something might be going on there - maybe one of them knows about Cas.”

  Dean grunted, Sam sighed.

  “It’s not like we have any other leads.”

  Dean couldn’t argue with that. Cas had been missing for almost two months now. They just got up one morning, and he was gone. Nowhere in the Bunker, no note, no stilted text message or awkward voice mails. Just gone. 

  Dean had instantly been apprehensive, but Sam assured him that Cas would be back. It wasn’t unprecedented, after all. Cas went off on his own all the time. But he always came back.

  He hadn’t come back. 

  All their leads went cold or fizzled out, none of their summoning spells worked, their prayers went unanswered.  In addition, hunting had been become...complicated, in the last year or so. 

  Ever since the Avengers made their debut, and aliens invaded New York, superheroes and unexplained phenomenon had started popping up everywhere. So when Sam and Dean read an article about a telekinetic attacking someone somewhere in Nevada, they had to debate whether it was supernatural or superpowers. In addition, people had started paying even closer attention to the weird and unexplained. They didn’t just write things off anymore - they were watching. Dean had a sneaking suspicion their world of angels and demons and ghosts wouldn’t remain hidden much longer. 

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It could make things a lot easier - or a lot harder. For instance, if someone posted an article right now about some dark-haired, blue-eyed handsome dude with a trenchcoat suddenly making an appearance in San Perdido, and whether or not he might be a new superhero, that would make things a lot easier for Dean. But if SHIELD swooped in and somehow managed to capture Cas for study and experiments and tried to recruit an angel for the Avengers or something - that would make things a lot harder.

  “Isn’t there some superhero in Hell’s Kitchen? Devil-something?”

  Sam huffed a laugh, “Uh, yeah. Daredevil.”

  Dean grunted again. He really didn’t want to go into a city where a known superhero resided. He didn’t want to mix their worlds - but apparently that hadn’t stopped whatever demonic force the priest had been talking about. Plus - what if the Avengers really had captured Cas? Dean laughed - that was absurd. But Sam was right. If there really was a demon infestation in Hell’s Kitchen, they might have a line on Cas. Those little black-eyed bastards spread gossip faster than Thor could throw his hammer. 

  “Daredevil. Demons. People really seem to take the name Hell’s Kitchen to heart.”

  “So does that mean we’re going?”

  “Why the hell not,” Dean answered. 

 

* * *

  It took them about a day and a half to reach Hell’s Kitchen. They pulled the Chevy Impala in front of a peaceful-looking church tucked in between the dingy office buildings and chaotic hubbub of New York City and parked. The church was small, shaded by some leafy green trees, and old. A pocket of calm in the gritty reality of Hell’s Kitchen. The sun was nearing the horizon, casting warm red shadows across the church and surrounding buildings. The road, the trees, even the Impala, all painted bright crimson. 

  Dean was still cursing about New York traffic as they got out of the car and stretched, prompting Sam to hit him on the arm.

  “Dean! We’re at a church!”

  “So? Fuck that - we’ve met angels, we’ve been to heaven - everything short of meeting the Big Man himself, and I have to say - so far, I’m not impressed.”

  Sam pinched his lips together, but didn’t have a ready retort. Dean grinned.

  “See? Even pious Sammy can’t defend those douchebags.”

  Sam’s only reply was to elbow Dean in the ribs as a priest emerged from the doors of the church and approached them. He was old, lines on his face and gray fuzz covering the top of his head,  wearing the traditional Catholic cassock and collar with a worried expression on his face.

  “Hello - are you Sam and Dean Winchester?”

  “In the flesh,” Dean answered. 

  The priest relaxed slightly, but still seemed extremely agitated. Sam tried to put on his most non-threatening, gentle expression before speaking.

  “So - you said there were some special circumstances? With your friend…?”

  “His name is Matthew.”

  “Well, I hate to break it to you, Father, but unless these circumstances are real special, Matty’s dead.”

  “I assure you, the circumstances are quite special,” Lantom said, with almost a tinge of annoyance in his voice. Sam and Dean passed a look. 

  “Care to explain?” Sam said.

  “I think it would be better if I just showed you. There’s another man there who might explain it better than me.”

  “Uh - where are we going, again?” Dean asked.

  “To Matthew’s apartment.”

  “We’re just gonna stroll right in?”

  “If everything goes well, yes. I assume you brought all the necessary...items?”

  Dean raised his eyebrows, then sighed and shook his head, “Yeah, we got everything. Let’s get to it, then. Not even time for a burger break.” 

  Sam was the only one who heard the last sentence, automatically shooting Dean a disapproving glare. The priest was already seated in the back of the Impala, waiting rather impatiently for Sam and Dean to get going. 

  “This all seems a little off to me, little brother,” Dean caught Sam by the arm, still hovering at the trunk of the car, “There’s something he’s not telling us.”

  “You think he’s lying?” 

  Dean pursed his lips, “I dunno. But something’s not right about this.”

  “What do you propose we do, then? Just abandon him on a hunch?”

  “No, I’m just saying - be careful.”

  Dean released Sam’s arm and circled around the car, plopping down in the driver’s seat and revving the engine. Sam stared through the back window a moment, eyeing the priest, then double-checking the demon-slaying knife was still in its sheath, before joining Dean in the front.

  “Where we headed, Father?”

 

* * *

  The apartment was stark. Plain. Dark. Empty.

  Very empty.

  It was also very nice - if you discounted the giant glowing billboard outside, and the piles of dishware and clothes and books laying everywhere. And now that Dean was looking closely - the books all seemed to be blank. Was that some sort of demonic trick? He had seen weirder things. 

  And the apartment wasn’t entirely empty - there was a guy with long blonde hair and a tousled t-shirt and sweats moping around sorting things into piles. He didn’t seem very malevolent or demonic, but Dean still had his shotgun cocked and ready as soon as he saw a possibly-possessed dude wandering around unrestricted.  Hearing the gun, the man turned around and promptly dropped the pile of laundry he had been gathering up.

  “Jesus Christ on a stick! What the hell? Who are these guys, Father?”

  “These are the outside help I was talking about, Foggy,” Lantom answered.

  “When you said outside help, I thought you meant like - a megapriest, or the pope, or some tiny fat lady on helium with giant glasses. Not some psychopath with a freakin’ shotgun!”

  Sam stepped forward, gently nudging the barrel of Dean’s gun towards the floor, “I take it you’re not Matthew?”

  “No, I’m Foggy. Oh, Jesus, I shouldn’t have given you my name.”

  “I’m Sam, this is Dean. We’re here to help. We have a lot of experience with...this sort of thing.”

  The man - Foggy - vigorously rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes, “I doubt that.”

  “Well, we have more experience than you, so let’s cut the crap. Where’s the stiff?”

  “He’s not a stiff, Dean - he’s still alive,” Lantom corrected, but Dean rolled his eyes. 

  “Yeah, we’ll see. Where is he?”

  Foggy had gone pale, his eyes shifting around the room nervously. 

  “Franklin - where’s Matthew?”

  “Matt, uh, well - he and...uh…”

  Sam had been walking the perimeter of the room, checking everything out. He stopped by the window and frowned.

  “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

  Dean and Lantom’s eyes widened in surprise, but Foggy just winced.

  “Foggy! We lined the room with salt - how did he escape?”

  “I...I mean, they made a really convincing argument.”

  Dean was surging forward, grabbing Foggy’s collar and shoving him against the wall with a growl.

  “You let this guy just waltz out of here? You do realize you just let a demon loose in the city, right?”

  Foggy brought his arms up and tried to break Dean’s hold, then just sighed and resigned himself to being pinned against the wall.

  “I didn’t just let them waltz out. I’ve been holed up in here with them for like...two days? Three? It’s hard enough to keep Matt from...going out. Azirale just made it worse. It’s not like I could stop them.”

  Sam cocked his head, “Them?”

  “Azirale?” Dean growled.

  “Foggy,” Lantom was shaking his head like a disappointed father. Which, technically, he was. “You could stop them. You had everything you needed.”

  “Yeah, well, you two demon experts were taking forever to get here, and Matt could...tell something was going on. Wait - how much did you tell them?”

  “I haven’t told them anything, I was going to let you explain.”

  Dean and Sam’s eyes bounced back and forth from Foggy to Lantom, who were having their own silent argument via glares and raised eyebrows. 

  Finally Foggy huffed out a breath and sagged, “Okay. Well, uh - well, let’s just say Matt has had an interesting past. He had this, like, wise old sensei who taught him how to control his mind. And fortify it, I guess, against invaders, is what he said. So, demons. And he knew how to protect himself against Azirale. But then they started working together to investigate Bouvois, and the other demons, but long story short - Matt is definitely alive. He’s not dead. We were thinking maybe Bouvois could actually heal Matt…”

  Dean shoved Foggy against the wall with a little more force, “You better start making some sense real soon, cuz I’m getting tired of hearing you talk.”

  Foggy didn’t seem intimidated by Dean’s threat at all. Instead he made a sour face over Dean’s shoulder, at Lantom.

  “Where did you find these guys again? They seem like real stand-up dudes.”

  “Dean, maybe lay off a little?” Sam put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and with a grunt, Dean released Foggy and stalked over to the window. He looked out at the blinding billboard and the alleyway below, then at the thick salt line coating the window sill. And the obvious break in the salt line where hands had cleared away a good foot of salt.

  “My brother and I are Hunters. We’ve been dealing with the paranormal all our lives. Ghosts, monsters, demons. You name it, we know how to get rid of it.”

  “So you’re Ghostbusters.”

  Sam huffed a laugh - the laugh Dean knew meant Sam wasn’t amused with someone’s joke - and agreed.

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Although we tend to deal with things a little scarier than the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”

  “Like demons.”

  “Right. So can you tell us a little about this demon that possessed your friend - Matt?”

  Foggy started talking - something about how Matt was out for a late-night walk and ran into some thugs, how he came in the next day beat up and acting strange, how he told Foggy to get away from him, how he left the braille message in blood.

  “Wait - braille?”

  Foggy blinked, coming out of the rhythm of his story, “Oh, yeah. Matt is blind. Did I not mention that?”

  Dean’s eyes went back to the blank books - now that he really studied them in the shifting light, he could see the rows of tiny upraised dots covering the blank pages. So, nothing demonic after all.

  “Your blind friend is possessed by a demon, but you seem very calm,” Dean finally re-entered the conversation.

  “Well Matt can handle himself. And like I said, he had special training or whatever.”

  “What kind of special training?”

  “I don’t know! He doesn’t really like to talk about it! But he had this crazy old man teach him how to meditate and resist mind control and stuff!”

  Sam and Dean passed a look - this case was just getting stranger and stranger.

  “Okay. We’re just going to go along with this idea that Matt is still alive, that he’s somehow resisted being completely controlled by this demon, and is now running around the city doing...what exactly?”

  “Looking for Bouvois. She’s a witch.”

  Dean let out a loud, exaggerated groan. Yeah, this case was strange alright.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean meet a new kind of devil; Az shares some memories with Matt.

  They grabbed the demon’s head, twining Matt’s fingers into the vessel’s hair and slamming its head against the wall. 

  “You wanna start talking?”

  The demon shook its head, snarling.

  Azirale and Matt passed a look. Well - no, not a look, for several reasons - but they communicated in that invisible, nonverbal way Matt had always imagined that “passing a look” felt like. There was a pause in which neither of them spoke, but were both thinking the same thing. It might have had something to do with the fact they were currently sharing the same brain, or that whenever they put on the Daredevil suit, the line between Matt and Azirale got a little blurred - but whatever it was, they both lifted the bottle in unison and splashed a little water on the demon.

  The demon howled, then gritted its teeth and hissed. He was a nasty brute, with too many teeth and smelling of decay; his vessel, however, seemed to be a middle-aged woman in a yoga outfit. Matt had been a little reluctant to attack and torture what smelled like someone’s mom, but Azirale assured him holy water only hurt the demon, not the vessel.

  “At least, in normal situations. Ours is a little different,” Az added after Matt huffed in disbelief. 

  They had tracked this guy from Bouvois’s warehouse, this time using extreme caution to hide their presence. 

  Evangeline Bouvois. According to human records, she was a transfer student from Canada that had come to America to study at Tulane eight years ago. She had dropped out shortly after, and records of her presence and activity became much more scattered. However, with a little help from Az and Foggy’s surprising tech savvy, they found old records of another woman named Evelyn Bouvois from 74 years ago. According to Foggy, the woman that appeared in the World War II photos of a military hospital in Memphis looked exactly like Evangeline Bouvois, the 2008 Tulane freshman. 

  They already knew she had purchased several warehouses around the city, had been circulating drugs throughout Hell’s Kitchen, funding various crime rings, and kidnapping random citizens off the street. Matt and Az had gone around to check out each warehouse, but at each location they were met with the same results as the first - whatever was inside was completely cloaked in magic. They had even taken photos to send to Foggy, but Foggy said they looked completely normal from the outside. 

  Matt wasn’t sure at which point Foggy had decided to trust Azirale. Maybe “trust” was too strong a word - but Foggy had stopped flinching when Az spoke, and seemed to stop second-guessing everything the demon said. At first Foggy had just wanted Matt to rest, or meditate, or whatever would help impede the demon. That hadn’t lasted very long, with both Matt and Az quickly growing restless. So they had researched Bouvois. And Foggy had joined in. 

  And now here they were, splashing Father Lantom’s bottle of holy water on some random soccer mom in a dark alley asking about a witch. 

  Lantom had come back occasionally to check on them, and Matt always made sure they were back in the flat looking very pensive and docile. Foggy always looked stressed and frustrated. Lantom didn’t really seem to notice, only informing them that the outside “help” was on the way. He then would inspect the salt barriers around the apartment, and after making sure they were intact, head back to the parish. Foggy always put the salt lines back so Lantom wouldn’t know they had left - and he always said he wasn’t going to clear them away for Az anymore. But whenever Matt asked, Foggy caved. 

  To be honest, Matt wasn’t sure when he had started trusting Azirale, either.  He just knew that whatever the their motivations were, they were far different from the other demons he had encountered.  For instance - this guy. Matt could feel the malevolence rolling off the demon, the intent to harm, the  _ danger _ and  _ disgust _ . Not that Az was particularly pleasant, but if Matt had to be possessed, he was glad it was Az and not whoever this was. 

  “Tell us why Bouvois is kidnapping people,” Az hissed, slamming the demon against the wall again. Matt tried to soften the blow a bit - he didn’t want to hurt the woman too much. 

  “ _ Be careful,”  _ he told Az.

  “ _ I’m bad cop _ ,” Az replied, causing Matt to groan internally. 

  “She’ll make you pay for this,” the demon hissed.

  “Oh really? You think Bouvois cares about some little demon like you?” Az bit back, “You’re a pawn. Her minion. At best, cannon fodder.”

  “Bouvois isn’t like Crowley - we are all part of her court, not some measly pissants serving a false king!” The demon spit on their face, but neither Matt nor Az noticed.

  “That’s interesting,” Az murmured.

  “Who’s Crowley?” Matt asked.

  “You know, if you let down this whole mental barrier thing, sharing information would be a lot easier.”

  “Just tell me.”

  Az sighed dramatically, “The King of Hell. And yeah - technically, Lucifer is supposed to hold dominion down there, but he can’t do much locked in a box.”

  “So does that mean...Bouvois is making a play for the throne? He said he was a part of her court.”

  Az shrugged, moving Matt’s shoulders up and down, “I mean, she’s a human, so that’d be a little weird.”

  “That’s pretty rich, from someone sharing bodies with a human. What kind of demon can’t even vanquish their host? No wonder Bouvois didn’t chose you!”

  Az growled and moved closer to the demon - too close. Matt tried to pull their body away, but the soccer mom demon was already moving. It raised the woman’s arm and knocked the holy water towards them, splashing it towards Matt. Fortunately most of it landed on his suit, but a few drops splattered on his face and caused them to flinch back. The demon took advantage of their distraction and lunged forward, grabbing them by the throat and surging across the alleyway, pinning Matt’s body to the opposite wall. 

  Matt was instantly in fight mode, his body still recalling the muscle memory drilled into it for years despite the fact his heart wasn’t beating. Az was there, too, supernatural strength and centuries of fighting instinct humming right alongside Matt’s heightened senses.  They struck out and felt the demon wince, its right arm shuddering slightly and loosening its hold. They twisted towards the right, taking advantage of the momentary weakness. It immediately tried to regain the hold, but Matt and Az were too quick. They danced around the demon as if every move was choreographed, dodging and dealing out blows with grace, finesse, and enough power to dent the side of a metal dumpster that got caught in the crossfire. 

  At some point, the demon seemed to realize it couldn’t win this fight and stopped trying to fight back, instead opting for escape.  But they still needed answers - the demon wasn’t getting away that easily. Unfortunately, at that moment two new players appeared at the scene. 

  The two heartbeats were rapidly approaching from around the corner - young, strong heartbeats, hurried, heavy footsteps, smelling of smoke, gunpowder, old books and worn leather. Matt had no idea who they were, but Az seemed to pause for a moment.  The demon saw its window of opportunity and ran towards the end of the alley, completely unaware of the two men headed in the exact same direction.

  “It’ll kill them - we’ve got to help,” Matt said, making to run after the demon, but his legs wouldn’t move. His whole body was frozen in place, filled with unease.

  “Az?”

  “Just wait...I think -”

  Before they could finish, the two men rounded the corner. The fleeing demon backpedaled immediately, screeching to a halt like some sort of cartoon character Matt used to watch when he could still see. 

  “Don’t you have some cookies to be baking somewhere?” a voice said - it was the shorter of the two men. His voice was deep, gravelly and impatient. 

  “Winchesters,” the demon said, slowly backing up. It looked over its shoulder at Matt, and the two men - the Winchesters - directed their faces in his direction for a moment before returning their attention to the demon.

  “A demon running from a devil? That’s something you don’t see everyday,” the taller man spoke, his voice smoother than the other’s. He had something in his hand that hummed with energy and screamed  _ danger _ \- a knife. 

_   We need to go,  _ Az said. 

  “Man, I hate this superhero crap. This is why we never come to New York,” the shorter man said. 

  “What are you doing here?” the demon asked.

  “Getting rid of pests like you, for one,” the shorter man answered, and they both advanced on the demon with alarming speed and determination. The demon scampered backwards, once again glancing over its shoulder at Daredevil, then suddenly collapsed to its knees.

  “Shit!” one of the men shouted, Matt wasn’t sure which one. Something strange was happening - he had lost all sense of the demon possessing the woman. Its form had instead become a roil of motion and blank space. For a brief moment the woman’s body seemed like a void in Matt’s radar, then suddenly she was back - and screaming. Her head was thrown back, her hands clenched into claws at her side. Her voice seemed muffled, as if someone had stuffed a rag in her mouth. In another moment she collapsed to her side, unconcious. And the demon was gone. Matt could only detect a remnant scent of sulfur - but otherwise the woman was completely human. Her heart rate, her breathing, her essence were all back to normal. 

  “Damn,” the shorter man said, jerking his arms angrily. The tall one knelt beside the woman and checked her vitals. After making sure she was still alive, he looked towards Matt. 

  “Do you know who she is?”

  Matt and Az were caught off guard. Matt was even more surprised when Az retreated, withdrawing deep into Matt’s mind and giving him total control of his body. Finally, he managed to stutter out an answer.

  “N-no. I just found her...it…”

  “Do you know where the nearest hospital is? Or should we just call an ambulance?”

  “What just happened? I thought she was possessed. She was...she wasn’t there.”

  The tall one was already on a phone, telling a 911 operator he had found an injured woman on the sidewalk. So the short one answered.

  “She was - you see all that black smoke? That was the demon saying adios. Or could you not see through that wannabe Batman mask?”

  Matt had to resist the impulse to put his hand to his face to feel the mask - did he look like Batman? He would have to ask Foggy later. Instead, he just said

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Sam, this is Dean. We heard you were having a demon problem in Hell’s Kitchen.”

  This came from Sam, who had hung up the phone and was shoving it in his pocket.

  “An ambulance is on its way. So unless you want to hang around to chat, I suggest we get moving.”

  Matt moved back towards the dead-end of the alley, intending to escape up the walls and across the roofs as usual. But Dean stopped him.

  “Hey! Wait! How do you know about demons?”

  Matt raised an eyebrow, but knew the expression probably didn’t translate with the mask. 

  “This is my city. I make it my business to know what’s going on.”

  “Yeah, but don’t your sort usually deal with, like, aliens? Evil robots? Bank robbers? Demons are our gig.”

  Matt suddenly had a sinking feeling, “Your gig?”

  “We’re hunters,” Sam said.

  “Hunters.” Matt repeated, still clueless.

  Dean clarified, “Anything supernatural - ghosts, ghouls, demons - you name it, we gank it.”

  Matt opened his mouth to say something else, but instead cocked his head towards the sounds of distant but quickly approaching sirens.

  “What is it?” Sam asked.

  “The police will be here soon. We need to go.”

  Matt once again moved to leave, this time feeling Az adding extra urgency to his movements. But once again, was stopped. This time by Sam.

  “Wait! Do you know anything about what the demons are doing here? Or a witch?”

  Matt hesitated, then grunted, “Not much.”

  “What about some possessed blind guy running around? Seen anything like that?”

  Matt froze. He had suspected this - two demon hunters showing up out of the blue after Father Lantom had called for outside help - but having his suspicions confirmed was still unsettling. These men were here for  _ him.  _ For  _ them _ . And Matt supposed he should have been grateful, or relieved. Az was laying low right now - he could probably step forward and say “Oh yeah! I’m that blind guy! Got any good home remedies for demon possession?” But he didn’t. His instincts were screaming at him that these men were dangerous. Before he put his life in the hands of complete strangers, he wanted to know more about them. He wasn’t about to gamble with an empty deck.

  “Can’t say I have,” Matt replied. It wasn’t exactly a lie. He really hadn’t seen anything.

  But that didn’t mean they couldn’t share information. And working together meant casing these guys out, deciding if he could trust them or not. Father Lantom seemed to trust them, but Father Lantom had also almost killed him two days ago.

  The sirens were drawing closer. Whatever they did next, they needed to do it soon.

  “I have some information on Bouvois. Meet me at 44th and 11th.”

  And with that Matt vaulted across the dented dumpster and bounced up to the fire escape, hauling himself over and grappling up onto the roof all within a few seconds. 

  “Jesus,” he heard Dean mutter, while Sam let out an impressed chuckle.

  “You think Batman could do that?” Sam laughed.

  Dean growled, “Batman could trump that pansey anyday.”

  Sam’s voice was still full of laughter, “I thought you didn’t like superheroes.”

  “I don’t. Batman’s the exception. Come on.”

  Their footsteps hurried down the street - Matt heard the sound of car doors slamming, and an engine revving to life. An old engine - 60’s? 70’s? It sounded like some old muscle car. 

  “What are you doing??” The voice suddenly burst out of Matt, catching him off guard. Az was agitated, twitching Matt’s fingers and growling deep in their chest.

  “They can help us take down Bouvois. Plus, I want to check them out. I don’t know if I trust them.”

  “Of course you can’t trust them! They’re Winchesters!”

  Matt waited for an explanation. Az let out a dramatic sigh.

  “The Winchesters have been making trouble for demons, angels, and everything in between since they were born. They’re dangerous. And anyone that gets involved with them gets burned. Sometimes literally. With gasoline. Besides! They want to exorcise me! Or just straight up kill me! That was a demon-killing knife!”

  “Well, that’s kind of the point.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “I mean, Lantom called them in so they could help me. Get rid of you,” Matt moved towards the edge of the roof. They needed to get moving if they were going to meet the infamous Winchesters on time.

  Az moaned, “Aw, come on! I thought we were over that! Aren’t we friends?”

  “What part of possessing me, inhabiting my body against my will, invading my mind, and getting me killed constitutes friendship to you?”

  “I’m helping you investigate Bouvois! I saved your life! Don’t forget, if I leave, you die!”

  “Holding threats over my head - another staple of friendship.”

  “You’re the one holding threats! You’re consorting with the enemy! You just admitted you’re cool with me being murdered! Or sent back to hell!”

  “I’m sure you’ll have a great homecoming,” Matt sighed. They had just sailed across a few rooftops, but instead of landing gracefully as intended, Az jerked their muscles and sent them skidding across the tarmac rooftop. 

  “What the hell,” Matt hissed, stumbling to his feet. Az wasn’t helping with movement at all - it was like all his bones had been replaced with lead. 

  “You think I’ll have a great homecoming to  _ hell _ ? See, this is why I possessed you in the first place! You - you humans! You’re so arrogant! You don’t understand! You know - I used to be like you once. I was a human. I had a soul, I had family and friends. And then I died - and I didn’t have a nice demon to keep me tethered to earth. I went straight to hell. And I stayed there for  _ centuries _ . Do you know what that’s like? Do you even have an inkling what hell actually is? It’s bone, and blood, and darkness, and terror and pain. And you never get used to it, you never get numb.”

_   “Here, have a little taste,”  _ Azirale hissed in their mind, and pushed against Matt’s mental barrier. 

  Matt immediately threw up his defenses. He hadn’t expected Azirale to explode like this - he had never heard Az so worked up. Speaking with such fury and passion. Pushing against Matt’s mind with blind rage - it wasn’t the careful prodding, subtle slips, or attempted sneak attacks Matt had grown accustomed to fending off - this was violent, emotional, and a lot stronger than expected. 

  In order to focus on protecting his mind from whatever Azirale was trying to do, Matt had to retreat from the rest of his body. He left his arms and legs, he abandoned physical sensation and the sounds and smells of the city, only existing in thought as he fought against the encroaching darkness Az was surrounding him with. It was that same tangible, suffocating darkness Matt had felt when Az first possessed him. It was fear. It was death. 

  Something snapped - and everything vanished. Matt couldn’t sense Azirale, couldn’t sense the rooftop beneath their knees, couldn’t even sense his own body. There was no sound, no smells, no wind or heat against his skin, no taste of humid city air or grimy streets in his mouth - nothing. Void. Blankness. He tried to call out, but heard nothing. Felt nothing. 

  But then...he  _ saw _ something. Flashes of red light, pulsing like a heartbeat in the void. 

  Then suddenly Matt felt too much - the void was gone, replaced by an incredible heat biting his skin, burning through to his bones, blistering his muscles and boiling his eyes. Something was screeching in his ears - Matt couldn’t tell if he was the one screaming, or someone else. The smell was terrible, sewage and feces and blood and vomit and burning hair all mixed together. He could taste it, too. Coating his tongue. He was so thirsty - anything to quench his throat, and wash away that awful taste. His nails stung, like someone was slowly pulling them backwards. 

  And the whole time he was  _ seeing _ . Everything was smashed together jump cuts from a nightmare. He was so unused to vision that his mind was reeling just trying to process color and visual shapes and lines and textures, so he wasn’t exactly sure what he was seeing at first but he knew he didn’t  _ want  _ to see it. There was bloody dark viscera smeared across a rocky surface, or maybe the surface was made of blood and organs, he wasn’t sure. There was a lot of fire, burning what looked like a pile of limbs and disjointed body parts. And terrible entities standing around him laughing, faces horrible and sneering. Demons. 

  And then just as quickly as he was plunged into the nightmare, he was out. He was back on the rooftop, still kneeling, with the chill night wind brushing past him without a care.

  He immediately doubled over and wretched, then wretched again until nothing was left. He peeled his helmet off, which he knew was foolish, but he needed to  _ breathe  _ and he needed to  _ feel  _ the wind on his face. He sucked in the cool air like a drug. Usually the night stank of trash and car exhaust and greasy food, but right now it smelled as pure and lovely as the breeze off a snowy mountain. 

  He held a trembling hand to his face, running fingers over his skin - which was intact and unmarred and slightly cool to the touch. And he couldn’t see anything at all - total darkness. He let out a sigh of relief. Blindness was a comfort.

   “That was...hell? Your memory of it?”

  “That was a moment. Imagine centuries,” Azirale answered.

  “Why...why did you show that to me?”

  “So you would understand. So you would know.”

  Matt felt like throwing up again, but instead he rose to his feet. Azirale helped. He let the demon have control of his muscles, to help stop the trembling. He felt a moment of intense relief wash over him that he had never killed anyone. That he had never sent anyone to hell. He had been tempted, he had toed the line - but never again. He was never going to the hand that sent someone to...to  _ that.  _

  “When a demon is exorcized, they’re sent back to hell?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did you escape?”

  “I clawed my way out.”

  Matt took a deep breath - he really didn’t need to, seeing that his body was dead, but the action helped him center himself.

  “We need to go meet the Winchesters.”

  “What are you going to tell them?”

  Matt expected Az to push back into his mind for answers. After all, the demon had just shattered his mental wall, even if just for a second. But Az seemed to be respecting Matt’s mental boundaries, and waited for the man to answer aloud.

  “We just need them to help us take down Bouvois. You want that, too, right?”

  “Yeah, I don’t like a witch scheming with demons. Especially when her goons tried to kill me. But I  _ don’t _ want the Winchesters exorcising me or gutting us with a demon knife. And you die in both those scenarios, too, by the way.”

  “I won’t let them hurt you,” Matt said. And he meant it. 

  What was he getting himself into.

  And when had he started sympathizing with a  _ demon _ ?

  Az was quiet for a moment, “Okay.”

  Matt nodded, “Okay.”

  They put his mask back on and started moving towards the edge of the roof, their body falling in sync once again. They took a flying leap and launched themselves to the next rooftop three buildings over. 

  “I wasn’t joking about the Winchesters being dangerous. You can’t let them know I’m here.”

  “I got it.”

  “I’m trusting you on this, Matt.”

  “I told you I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

  “Okay. But don’t let them hurt you, either. I mean, possessing a dead vessel is gross enough. If you end up missing an arm or getting your face melted off, I’m out.”

  “Don’t give me ideas,” Matt replied.

  “Here’s an idea - don’t fuck this up. You’re still susceptible to holy water and devil traps even if I give you the steering wheel.”

  
  “They have no reason to suspect I’m the demon-possessed blind guy they’re looking for.”

  “Let’s keep it that way.”   


  They sailed across the next rooftop, and Matt tried to ignore how easily he and Az had started talking, how easily they moved together, how good a team they actually made. How sincere and angry Az had been a moment ago, and how Matt had felt bad for the demon. He felt  _ bad  _ for a  _ demon _ . He still felt like he had such a poor grasp on everything that was happening - witches and kings and hunters and demons - he was still adjusting to the fact that he was sharing his body with a demon. But that was the thing - he was adjusting to this.  He couldn’t let this become normal. He couldn’t accept this.  He needed to keep a clear head, an objective head - he needed to get Azirale out.  But instead, he had promised Az he would protect him.

  They hopped across a few rooftops, then coiled up and leapt for a building that was a little taller than the rest - they were getting close to the meeting spot.  He could figure the rest out later. Right now, he needed to focus on the Winchesters. On Bouvois. On protecting Hell’s Kitchen.  They landed on top of the building and extended their senses - there it was. That old muscle car engine, humming quietly on the side of the road not far ahead. The chill air rolling off the river washed across their body, and the neon sign on the front of the building buzzed quietly but persistently. A grin spread across Matt’s face. He hoped Dean would appreciate the location. 

  He slipped off the roof and headed towards the car, where he could hear the two brothers discussing whether or not he was actually going to show up. He would hate to disappoint. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The budding of a new friendship, maybe

  Azirale had overstepped. They knew it. Their relationship with Matt had turned into this tenuous, complicated set of unspoken rules and allowances. Which wasn’t exactly how a possession was supposed to work, but they were both getting something out of it. Matt was getting to live, for one, and even if he denied it, Az knew he enjoyed the whole super-strength aspect. And Az was...Az was getting a new perspective on life. He was getting to  _ feel _ things in a way he hadn’t for a long, long time. 

  For instance - right now.  Matt said he wouldn’t let the Winchesters hurt them. And Az believed him. They trusted him - this human.  Of course, the moment before now Az had been feeling absolutely nothing positive towards Matt at all. The callous way he joked about hell had ignited something dark and furious in Az, and the demon felt sad, and betrayed, and enraged, and the wild mash of all those unfamiliar emotions that had been burned out of them erupted in a storm. They pushed into Matt’s mind, ignoring the alarm and fear surging out from Matt, and gave him a glimpse into their memory. 

  After the moment was over and Matt was dry-heaving on the roof, Az felt something else -trepidation. They had been having fun, mostly, up to this point. They had been enjoying this new situation, despite the unorthodoxy of it, even arguing with Matt and having to share a vessel. It was something different after ages of dismal monotony. They didn’t regret overstepping, but they knew they had just changed things.  Matt had been beginning to trust them, but after this...if he exorcized Az, Matt would die, but his soul would still go to heaven. So really, there wasn’t as much of an ultimatum as Azirale had made it out to be. Besides, there were other things they could do to Az without having to kill Matt. These were the Winchesters - who knew what they were capable of. 

  But instead Matt had promised protection.  Az was curious about what was going on in Matt’s head, but he wasn’t about to go digging around right now. 

  Instead, they moved together with Matt towards danger, towards the Winchesters, and gave him a few pointers before retreating and handing the reigns to Daredevil.

  They leapt across the street and landed on a shorter building on the corner. The thrum of the 1967 engine echoed from the street, and underneath that they could pick up snatches of the brothers’ conversation inside the car. 

  “This guy is a smartass,” Dean was saying.

  “You were the one that called him Batman,” Sam answered.

  “Yeah - but Gotham Market? I thought this guy was supposed to be dark and scary - he’s just a nerd.”

  “A nerd that’s killed five people in the past three days.”

  Az didn’t know what they were talking about - they guessed it had something to do with the smug smile Matt wore when they heard the buzzing neon sign a moment before. The Winchesters were right about one thing - Matt was definitely a nerd. And a smartass. Hopefully the rest of their information was that accurate, or they would be taking a lot of risk for nothing.

  Azirale left the specifics of making a dramatic appearance to Matt - once again, nerd. Plus, Az still hadn’t worked out the science of knowing where light was and wasn’t, where other people’s lines of sight led, or how to dramatically appear out of nowhere when, right now, they could sense every object and movement on the block. They hadn’t been possessing Matt’s body for long, but already it was difficult to remember how normal humans perceived the world.

  But Matt had this down to a science, it seemed, as he clambered down the side of the building, darted across an alley and hopped a fence into a lot filled with freight containers. The Winchesters’ car was humming loudly just on the other side of the lot - they had parked facing the cross street, right next to the fenced-in lot. Matt skulked through the maze of containers before finally hopping up onto a tower of the boxes and crouched there, orienting himself towards the sound of the old engine and making sure he was lined up with the windshield. Then he just crouched there like some sort of gargoyle, waiting for the Winchesters to see him. 

  It didn’t take long. 

  “Hey - look. That’s our guy.” Sam spoke up from inside the car. 

  Matt immediately stood and hopped down behind the containers, vanishing from sight. 

  “Damn it. Let’s go,” Dean answered. The engine died, two doors slammed, and then footsteps were walking their way.

  “ _ Remember - be careful. These guys are dangerous. _ ” Az said in Matt’s mind.

  “ _ So am I _ ,” Matt replied. 

  Az couldn’t contest that. But the Winchesters were dangerous in ways Matt wasn’t even aware existed. But Az just stayed quiet - they could handle this. Matt might be a drama queen who put way too much thought in making dramatic entries, but he was smart. And he was going to protect them.

  Sam and Dean’s heartbeats and footsteps were drawing closer, the scent of leather, guns, and washed-out bloodstains cutting through the scent of the river and exhaust. They could feel the air currents slipping and bending through the maze of freight cars, the pressure and sound reverberating off the sides of the metal containers, carrying the noises and smells of the Winchesters to Matt and telling him exactly where they were. That they were armed. And they could sense that dangerous energy emanating from the taller one - Sam - he still had that demon-killing knife. He wasn’t holding it, but it was somewhere on him. 

  Matt made his way towards the Winchesters, arriving at a corner right before the brothers turned and slipping into the corridor behind them. Azirale’s unease grew with every step closer to the brothers,  but they just retreated into Matt and let Daredevil take over. They didn’t want to give off any demonic vibes or tells that would alert the Winchesters.

  “I thought we were going to help each other out,” Matt said, breaking the quiet of the night.

  The Winchesters spun around and trained their guns on Daredevil, heart rates jumping slightly before settling back to normal. They weren’t scared. They were prepared.

  “It seems a little counterproductive  to be pointing guns at me,” Matt said smoothly. He wasn’t scared either. 

  “Man, I hate this superhero crap,” Dean muttered in a familiar mantra, then lowered his firearm. “Cute, by the way - Gotham Market.” Dean jerked his head towards the tall building across the street. Matt smirked. 

  “What’s with the theatrics? Can’t talk to us like a normal person?”

  “I have an identity to protect. I’m not the most popular person in this city,” Matt answered. 

  “Yeah - that tends to happen when you go around murdering people.”

  “That man was a rapist, and a potential murderer,” Matt answered.

  “And the others?” Dean demanded.

  “Bouvois,” Matt answered, “She had them under a spell, sent them after me. She killed them, not me.”

  Sam and Dean tilted their heads slightly towards one another - passing a look. Something even Matt’s super senses couldn’t detect. 

  “What do you know about her?” Dean asked.

  Matt told them. About Evangeline, and Evelyn, about the increased activity in pretty much all the crime spheres of the city, about the missing people, the warehouses, the demons. He left out a few details, but the message was clear - Bouvois was up to no good.

  “What about you - what do you two know?”

  Sam and Dean passed another look before speaking - Az had to resist the urge to sigh and roll their eyes.

  “Not a lot. Pretty much everything you’ve told us,” Sam responded. His voice sounded honest, but his heart was lying. He knew more than he was saying.

  Az felt Matt grit his teeth. Anger. They were getting better at reading Matt’s emotions, even if they couldn’t quite feel them yet. They had been hustled for information - the Winchesters weren’t going to tell them anything. 

  “What about this guy - you seen anyone that looked like this running around?”

  Dean held up a phone to Matt’s face. Matt directed his eyes towards the phone - Az could feel the energy and heat coming from the device, and make out the shape of it in Dean’s hand, but that was all they were getting. Obviously they were being shown a picture, but of what was anyone’s guess. 

  “Is this your blind possessed guy you mentioned earlier?” Matt asked after staring in the direction of the screen for a moment. 

  “Yeah,” Dean answered, “Matt Murdock. Seen him around? At one of these warehouses, or whatever?”

  Matt shook his head, “No. Why? What’s so special about him?”

  “A lot, according to his friends. They think he can control the demon possessing him. I’m not sure how much of that is true, but we told them we’d find him. And that we’d look into this witch business.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for him. You sure you don’t know anything about Bouvois?” Daredevil asked. 

  Dean shrugged, the leather jacket rustling with the movement, “Sorry pal. You know everything we know.”

  Lying.

  Matt reached out and grabbed Dean’s arm, gripping a little harder than necessary. Sam’s gun was back in the air, pointed at Daredevil. 

_   Careful _ , Az said.

  “Why don’t I believe you?” Matt asked, voice tense. 

  Dean shook Matt off, and Sam relaxed.

  “I’m just trying to keep my city safe,” Matt said, tone softer. Reconciliatory. 

  “Then back off and let the experts handle it, okay? I don’t think demons are going to intimidated by a grown man playing dress-up and doing a floor routine.”

  “We know what we’re doing,” Sam added, apologetically, then handed Matt a slip of paper, “You see Matt, or find anything else, or need help with a demon - call us.”

  And then they were leaving, walking back the way they came still holding all their information, and taking all of Matt’s. And Azirale’s. 

  “Bastards,” Az said, but Matt shook his head.

  “Yeah, but we can still use them. Shh.”

  They stood very still and just...stood. And listened. 

  Sam and Dean were getting in the car, revving the engine. 

  “...information sounded legit. We should check it out.”

  “But if Evangeline wants to be Queen of Hell, why is she in New York buying up warehouses and investing in drug rings?”

  “Don’t know, but I have an idea how we can find out.”

  “You want to check out the warehouse?”

  “You know that’s right,” Dean answered, pulling away from the curb.

  Matt focused his senses, blocking out other stimuli and extending his hearing, following the brothers’ voices as they drove away.

  “12th is closest. But Daredevil said it was warded with some sort of magic.”

  “God. I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “What?”

  “Daredevil.”

  “That’s his name!”

  “Whatever. So it’s warded with magic. We’ll find a way in.”

  Matt let them go, allowing his other senses to flood in and bring him back to the lot behind Gotham Market, back to the river and exhaust and freight containers and Az. 

  “You think they can really get in?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah. They’re smart, they know how to use magic - plus they’re a stubborn pair of bastards. They’ll find a way to bypass her wards. Though I’m not sure how well they’ll fare once they get in, whatever’s in there.”

  “Then we follow them.”

* * *

  The warehouse was old, white walls streaked with black stains and grime. The only windows were high above the sidewalk, and clouded with dirt and cobwebs. Still, Sam climbed the rickety, creaking fire escape and peeked inside while Dean kept watch.  It was late at night in a shady part of Hell’s Kitchen - even if they were spotted, no one would look at them twice. But if a demon came along...hopefully they would pass for normal, uninteresting miscreants, but Dean doubted it. There was a strong sense of unease in the air, a feeling of foreboding that made Dean want to bolt as soon as possible. Whenever he looked at the warehouse, or his eyes strayed to the windows, the feeling got immensely stronger. His instincts and gut feeling screamed at him to get out of there, to look away. 

  He knew it was the spell Bouvois had put on the warehouse to keep humans away, but mind over matter didn’t seem to be working in this instance. He was getting antsy when Sam finally clambered down from the fire escape.

  “I can’t see anything inside. It’s too dark, but it looks empty.”

  “Horns said the warehouse he checked out seemed empty, too, then a hoard of demons strolled out the front door. It has to be some sort of spell, to trick people.”

  “Pretty strong magic,” Sam said, sniffing and letting his eyes rove over the warehouse.

  “Tell me about it. Its giving me the creeps.”

  “Let’s go around back and try to find a way in.”

  The back alley running next to the building was even shadier than the front - trash and what looked like the remains from a junkies’ camp littering the concrete, the only light dim and flickering. There was a backdoor - but when Dean tried it, it wouldn’t budge.

  “Hey,” Sam hissed, “Check this out.”

  Dean followed the beam of the flashlight and saw a series of symbols painted on the wall of the warehouse. He ran his fingers over the spray paint, racking his memory.

  “I’ve seen these before - glyphs for protection.”

  “Guess I missed those the first time.”

  A voice came from behind them, and Dean spun around - gun cocked and ready before his eyes even registered who had snuck up on them.

  When he  _ did _ register the figure, he let out a loud sigh and rolled his eyes. 

  “Again, are the theatrics really necessary?”

  Daredevil was leaning against the opposite wall of the alley, arms and ankles crossed as if he was just relaxing after a nice afternoon stroll. He even had a satisfied little smirk on his face. The image was ruined by the red and black armor and disconcerting mask, though. And the sketchy, trash-ridden alleyway. 

  “When did you get here?” Sam asked.

  “I’ve been here a while. So what are these glyphs?”

  Dean turned his back to the costumed crusader and studied the symbols again.

  “It’s none of your business, is what. We told you, we have this handled. So why don’t you just -”

  Suddenly Daredevil hissed, shushing Dean. When he turned around to give the superhero a taste of his mind, the dude was holding up his hand in the universal symbol for “wait,” and his head was cocked to the side like he was listening.

  “What is it?” Sam whispered.

  “Demons - on the roof. Three of them.”

  “How do you…” Dean began, but suddenly Daredevil surged forward and shoved them both against the wall with surprising strength, then put a finger to his lips.

  They waited for a moment in tense silence, entirely too close for Dean’s comfort. For a long minute there was nothing, but gradually Dean became aware of voices drifting down from the roof. Damn, the man was right. Someone was up there. So they waited. 

  Finally, Daredevil relaxed and backed away from the wall, cocking his head for a moment before nodding.

  “They’re gone.”

  “Good. Now you can go, too.”

  “Dean, maybe he can help us out,” Sam said, in that way he did. When he spoke in that voice, Dean knew the argument had already been won. Usually he would drag it out, but he was feeling uneasy and ready to get out of there tonight. Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, Daredevil seemed to be able to handle himself. And if he could sense demons from a distance - well, it was nice to have an alarm system. Since they didn’t have Cas.

  “Fine. Whatever, to hell with it. Let’s get this over with.”

  He snatched a can of spray paint from his duffle and began marking out the symbols and glyphs painted on the wall. 

  Daredevil suddenly jerked a little bit, and Sam noticed.

  “What is it?”

  “I just...I felt that. Before I couldn’t get anything from inside - it’s still muffled, but -”

  “You can sense what’s inside the building?”

  “Not very well,” Daredevil answered.

  “Damn superheroes,” Dean muttered, then tried the door again.

  This time, it opened. Before them yawned darkness. 

  Dean could briefly make out the faint outline of walls and floor for a few feet past the doorframe, then everything melded together into shadows. A cloud of cold air rolled out of the darkness with a moaning sigh, a frigid breath that chilled him to the bone. 

  “Something’s not right,” Daredevil said, taking a slight step back.

  “No shit. What’d you expect? Just leave this to us, I’m sure there’s an old lady somewhere that needs help crossing the street.”

  “Dean,” Sam reprimanded.

  Daredevil’s lip twitched upwards, and Dean got the impression the man wanted to curse. Instead, he clenched his hands into fists and strode towards the door. 

  “Alright then,” Dean replied, and walked in. Daredevil was right behind him, his footsteps so light they were hardly detectable. And behind him, Sammy covering their backs. Dean was glad of that, because as much as he wouldn’t admit it to Horns, walking into the inky darkness of the hallway was the last thing he wanted to do. Something was definitely off. More so than usual when dealing with witches and demons. This was something darker, something powerful, something big.

  He let out a slow, deep, breath, then steeled himself and took the next step. 

  Too late to turn back now. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gang does some sleuthing

  Matt could feel Azirale’s apprehension, compounding it with his own. Every single one of his functioning senses was on high alert - but he couldn’t pick up anything. The only sounds he could hear were his and the Winchesters’ footsteps, their breathing, and their two heartbeats. Beyond that - nothing. The door, the walls, the floor - gone. He knew the floor, at least, was still there, because they were walking. But only because he felt it underfoot - according to his radar sense they were floating in a void. 

  “I can’t see a thing,” Sam whispered, the soft noise thundering in the silence. 

  Matt almost made a snide comment, but thought better of it. The brothers didn’t need any hints about the whereabouts of their missing blind man. Az, however, was eager to supply. 

_   Imagine that - must be horrible,  _ the demon said. Matt smirked, and was thankful Sam and Dean couldn’t see it. 

_   “What’s going on? What is this place?”  _ Matt asked internally.

  “ _ Shit if I know. Something bad - but it’s not too late to turn back. I say we - “ _ WATCH OUT!”

  Azirale’s voice erupted out of Matt, interrupting whatever the demon had been about to say. Matt felt it as soon as Az did - the warning was for the Winchesters. 

  Something in the void. Something shivering and smelling like an inside-out corpse, phlegm and decomposition rattling with every breath, a shape amongst the void pressing in around them. It hadn’t been there a moment ago - there had been nothing there. Then suddenly - a monster. Too-long limbs with stretching claws reaching out towards them. 

  Dean spun around blindly, stumbling right into the creature’s grasp. Sam shouted in confusion and cocked his shotgun. Neither of them could tell where it was. Together, Matt and Az snatched the gun from Sam - ripping it from him with inhuman strength - and fired a blast at the thing’s arm. It released Dean with a piercing howl. They all doubled over and covered their ears, stumbling away from the noise. Matt felt the wooden floor underfoot, then bashed into what should have been a wall - but instead just felt a heady wave of buzzing magic and stumbled out of the hallway and into an empty space. 

  And then everything went topsy-turvy. 

  Matt was already disoriented - it’s not like he had been able to hear much before, but now he couldn’t even detect Sam or Dean’s heartbeats, or the monster’s rattling breathing. He desperately tried to reach out with his senses, then physically tried to reach out - but his hands met with nothing. He wasn’t sure he could even feel his hands. 

_   “Matt! Get it together! We gotta get back on the path.” _

  Matt didn’t know what Az was talking about - everything was spinning. He felt like he was falling, or drowning. He felt Azirale take over, and he let the demon in. His muscles switched ownership, but it didn’t feel forced or claustrophobic anymore - right now, it was a comfort. Az would get them out of...wherever this was. He didn’t have a doubt in his mind - they were definitely not in the narrow hallway they had seen from the alleyway. They were...somewhere else. Maybe they were nowhere. Maybe they had fallen out of the physical plane - that’s what it felt like. 

  But now his hearing was coming back - he could hear the brothers’ heartbeats far away, muffled and warped, like the sound was traveling through water.  

  Az was moving. It felt similar to when they soared through the air, jumping building to building. The heartbeats were drawing closer. And with it came a voice, muted and cut off, being swallowed up by the air around it. 

  “Sam! Sam! Damn it. Sam!” Dean was shouting, his voice cracking. Az reached out and snagged his jacket sleeve, then clapped the other hand to Dean’s mouth. Dean twitched for his gun, but Az’s demonic strength kept him from drawing.

  “We’ve got to get Sam. Stay close,” Az said, then they were moving again. 

  Matt was coming back to his senses, but he still couldn’t tell where they were. The monster seemed to be gone for the moment - but it wasn’t far off. And there were more. 

  He could hear them - hissing, growling, rasping, somewhere around them. Above, below - direction didn’t seem to have meaning here. They had fallen into some sort of twilight zone. A bad dream. 

  “Dean! Daredevil! Dean!” Sam was shouting - Az reached him. Then they were surging away again. Floating back up from the murky depths. Something brushed a cold, bony hand against Matt’s body, but it couldn’t get a hold. They moved past. 

  Then with a shock they were back - the floor was beneath them. Matt could sense the creaking floorboards. Az projected their senses out, and Matt let them, working with the demon to map out their surroundings. There - only a few meters ahead - another door. 

  “Get up, we have to move,” they said. Az and Matt had blurred into one - their only thought escape. Getting out of whatever this was. 

  Dean and Sam were collapsed on the floor, gasping and shaking their heads, clambering to their feet. They didn’t have time for this. The things were still lurking. The void was still pressing in.  Daredevil grabbed them both by the elbow and hauled them to their feet, then pulled them to the door.  They didn’t bother turning the knob, just kicked the door in. Their three bodies tumbled through the door all at once and spilled out onto a dusty concrete floor. 

  Suddenly the world around them came back into focus. It smelled of dust, and blood, and sweat and fear. And blueberry muffins. Chalk, paint. Sulfur. Herbs. Smoke - the embers of the fire were still burning. And guns. Lots of guns.  Matt could feel the heat of the smoldering fireplace - an ancient brick thing in one of the upstairs lofts. Matt and Az honed in on the sound of the still-crackling flames. That wasn’t the only thing they could hear. There were voices. Slow, steady heartbeats. Footsteps. Coming their way.

  “Get up. Get up. We have to hide - they’re coming,” Matt said.

  The two brothers finally seemed to have gotten their feet under them again. They nodded and followed Daredevil towards some crates stacked in the corner of the warehouse.  They ducked behind the nearest crate as the door to the upstairs loft opened and a pair of demons ran out onto the metal balcony overlooking the floor of the warehouse.

  “What was that?”

  “Look - the door is open.”

  “Damn those idiots. One of them is going to get loose in here one day. We need better wards.”

  “Bouvois wouldn’t let them hurt us.”

  “Then you go down there and shut the door.”

  Both the demons hesitated for a moment, then the second demon spoke again.

  “We’ll let the others do it when they get back.”

  The first demon laughed and started teasing the other as they retreated back into the loft room.

  “They’re gone,” Matt informed the Winchesters.

  “Man, what the hell was that?” Dean whisper-shouted, his heart still trying to return to its normal pace.

  “Some sort of...portal? A spell? That monster must have been some sort of...guard dog?” Sam supplied.

  “Doesn’t matter now - we need to find out what we can before the rest of them get back. We may not have much time,” Matt said.

  “Who put you in charge,” Dean muttered under his breath, not expecting Matt to hear it. Slightly louder, he said, “Okay. You keep an eye on those demons upstairs, and the entrances. Let us know if we have company.”

  Matt didn’t comment on the irony of Dean’s orders, and just nodded. From what he could sense in the room, he wouldn’t be much help searching. Lots of papers, some chalkboards, and lots and lots of old books. And the guns - these crates were full of them. But that’s not what they were searching for. 

  Matt didn’t know exactly what they were searching for - anything that would tell them what Bouvois was up to. The two brothers headed across the warehouse floor and started rifling through books and papers. Matt decided to do a little search of his own. Being mindful of the demons upstairs, he cast his senses around the warehouse to get a better idea of its contents. 

  All activity in the space seemed to take place on the fringes - the middle of the warehouse floor was completely clear. If they had a hoop, the could set up a basketball court in the empty space. Every other inch of the warehouse was crammed full of stuff - the far wall downstairs reminded Matt of a college lecture hall or a professor’s office. There were a number of desks - all crammed with paper and little trinkets that hummed with magic energy. There were some rolling chalkboards set up in various places among the desks, and tables filled with books and more items humming with magic energy. 

  Then there were tables filled with guns in various states of assembly, bullets, and even some grenades. Matt knew Bouvois had fingers in almost every criminal enterprise in Hell’s Kitchen - this must be her headquarters for arms deals and production. 

  He turned his attention to the rooms upstairs. The doors led out onto a metal rail balcony overlooking the warehouse. In one room - the one with the fireplace - the two demons were playing Monopoly. There didn’t seem to be anything of interest in any of the other rooms - shelves filled with books, furniture, or more guns. But one of rooms caught his attention - it smelled of death. 

  Bodies. 

  But that wasn’t all - there was something else...something strange. Matt thought it might be magic, then he thought it might be a demon he had missed in his first sweep, and then he realized it reminded him of the monster they had encountered in the disturbing liminal hallway just a moment ago. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to have a physical form. But Matt could sense it all the same - he couldn’t hear its heartbeat or feel its body heat, but he knew it was there.

  “ _ What the hell is that?”  _ Matt asked.

  “ _ Fuck if I know. It almost feels like a demon, but something’s not quite right. Wanna check it out?” _

_   “We gotta keep watch for the Winchesters,”  _ Matt answered. 

_   “Screw ‘em. They won’t even notice.” _

  Matt turned his attention towards the brothers - Dean was studying what seemed to be a ledger, while Sam had his nose in an old tome that smelled of dust and aging paper.

  He then checked on the Monopoly Demons - one was mourning his lost property while the other cackled and collected their reward.

_   “A quick peek,”  _ Matt conceded. 

  Az cheered, and Matt stealthily moved towards the metal stairs leading to the balcony. He couldn’t  stop his boots from clanking softly against the rattley stairs, though - and the Winchesters had battle reflexes.

  “What the hell, Evil Knievel?” Dean hissed, attention instantly zeroing in on Matt.

  “There’s something upstairs,” Matt answered, then kept going. 

  He felt Sam and Dean pass  _ a look  _ behind, let out sighs - one with a curse - before following after Matt.  They crept past the Monopoly room, past the storage rooms, past what smelled like a library, and to the last room. Matt could sense it more clearly now, but that didn’t help him identify the strange entity in the room. He could sense something else now, though - a glass jar, quietly buzing with magic. Whatever the thing was, it was in the jar. It didn’t seem to obey physics, however; it felt like it was much larger than the jar, or moved in ways that didn’t belie being trapped in a jar. And there was still the smell of death smothering everything - there was a pile of bodies stacked haphazardly against the wall. 

  Matt and Az didn’t mention any of this to the brothers, though - they just opened the door and walked in. 

  “Jesus Christ,” Dean said between gritted teeth, and Sam threw up a little in his mouth. 

  Matt could taste it.

_   “Tasty,”  _ Az said. 

_   “Don’t,”  _ Matt responded.

  “What the hell is this?” Dean waded into the room, going directly towards the bodies and poking them with his shoe. They squelched slightly. 

  “Guys, look at this,” Sam said, standing towards the back of the room.

  He found the jar. 

  “What the hell is  _ that? _ ” Dean reprised. 

  “A demon?” Sam offered.

  “Doesn’t look right - demons are like black smoke. This is...motor oil.”

  “Floating motor oil,” Sam deadpanned. 

  “I’m just calling it like I see it,” Dean said, throwing his hands in the air.

  Matt didn’t often wish he could see, not anymore - but right now was one of the times sight would come in handy. None of his other senses seemed to be able to tell him what the Winchester brothers were witnessing. 

  “ _ Demons look like smoke?” _ he asked Az.

  “ _ When we’re not possessing someone, yeah. But this thing is not a demon.” _

  Matt concentrated harder on the...floating motor oil...but it was like he had dropped a figurine in a vat full of water. He fished around the water for the figure, and it kept bobbing against his hand, and he would almost get a grasp on an arm, or a leg, or a head, before it bobbed away again.  Sometimes the thing in the jar seemed to morph into a face, with snarling teeth, or with eyes squeezed shut - or he would catch sounds, a guttural growl or what sounded like sobbing. 

_   “Gross,”  _ Az supplied, helpfully. 

  He didn’t know what to make of it. He was so tired of being in over his head - he just wanted some solid information.

  “What did you find downstairs?” he asked.

  “A lot of progression charts, of different things,” Sam answered, “Crime stats, records of criminal enterprises, illegal ledgers, receipts. Foggy was right - Bouvois has hands in rackets all over town.”

  Matt had to use every ounce of strength not to respond to that - he knew the Winchesters must have talked to Foggy and Lantom, logically, but it was startling to hear them refer to Foggy so casually.

  “Progression charts?” he said instead. 

  “It seemed like they doing some sort of experiment? Probably on these guys. Subjecting them to torture, seeing how it affected them, or something.” Sam nodded towards the bodies. 

  “They don’t look like they’ve been tortured. There’s not a mark on them,” Dean responded.

  He was right. The room stank of death, but aside from putrefying organs, Matt couldn’t smell a single drop of blood or sense any physical injuries on the bodies. No poison. No electrical burns. 

  “Maybe they were testing out some sort of spell? Upgrading their hex bags?” Sam offered.

  “But why? And why keep charts?” Dean asked.

  “What were on the charts?” Matt said.

  “I didn’t really understand all of it - but they talked about mental degradation, becoming less self-aware, and emotional capacity - things like that. It seemed really psychological, not really magical.”

  “What the hell?” Dean said.

  No one had an answer. None of this made sense.

  “Anything else?” Matt asked.

  “A lot of books on alchemy. Transmutation. Magic circles,” Dean answered. 

_   “Alchemy?” _

_   “Once again, this would be easier if you would just let down the Great Berlin Wall of Fort Knox, you know. Sharing information. Telling each other things. Exchanging recipes. Conspiri-” _

_   “Okay, fine,”  _ Matt snapped, then did something completely reckless. Something Stick would have killed him for. 

  He let down the mental wall.

  Immediately memories rushed together, meeting like two rivers and transforming into rapids. It happened in the blink of an eye, their two minds meshing together, processing information and memories and knowledge so fast they staggered slightly.

  They were still separate. Matt knew which memories and thoughts were his, and which belonged to Az. But he felt  _ raw  _ and  _ open.  _ This was probably the most open he had been with anyone in his entire life. There were no secrets when you shared a brain. He just couldn’t believe he was opening himself up to a  _ demon.  _ But honestly, it felt freeing. Keeping up a constant mental barrier in his own mind had been exhausting. Plus, at this point, boxing Az out seemed rather pointless. They already had an understanding, a trust. A bond. And despite himself, he was starting to like Az.

  Okay, maybe not  _ like.  _ But  _ not absolutely hate.  _

  He didn’t have time to focus on that, though, because as soon as his mind rewired itself to hold two lives inside it, he had an epiphany. 

  “ _ Oh shit,”  _ Az said, coming to the same realization.

  Then, “ _ I told you we should have done this earlier.” _

  “It’s Wilson Fisk all over again,” Matt breathed, causing Sam and Dean to look his way.

  “ _ Wilson Fisk, except about a million times worse. I mean, ninja goons vs demon goons? Demons are going to win that fight.” _

  Matt didn’t pause long enough to regret the snarky commentary opening his mind to Az included. 

  “Come again?” Dean asked impatiently.

  “After Hell’s Kitchen was destroyed, after the alien invasion, the city was in chaos. People were at an all time low. They were scared. They felt hopeless. Criminals like Fisk moved in and took advantage of that. They used people’s fears against them, and made a profit from it.”

  Dean shook his head, “Okay? And? What does this have to do with any of this?”

  “Bouvois is generating that - that fear, and hopelessness. Think about it - arms trade, drug deals, robberies, murder, muggings. She’s perpetuating crimes all across the city. To create fear, and then to take advantage of it. And if she is trying to be the new Queen of Hell or something-” Sam and Dean passed a look as he said this, “ -then that would be a great way to win some souls for hell.”

  Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “That...that kind of makes sense. She’s fixing what she thinks Crowley broke. Doing his job for him.” He looked at Dean, who grunted in affirmative. There it was - that information they had withheld earlier, leaving Matt and Az in the Winchester’s figurative dust at Gotham Market. 

  “I think this would be a good time for you to tell me what you really know,” Matt said, quietly but firmly. The brothers passed another one of their looks - both Matt and Az were getting real tired of that particular little habit. 

  “Not much,” Dean said - this time he was telling the truth. 

  Sam gulped once, “We’ve heard of Evangeline Bouvois before. She made some trouble down in hell. Apparently she tried to overthrow Crowley. Said he wasn’t doing his job right.”

  “Crowley’s idea of eternal torture was waiting in a never-ending line for the rest of all time. Hell used to be a little more....grisly. I think Bouvois was a fan of the retro version,” Dean added. 

  “If those charts were really about torture, then I’d say yes,” Sam said.

  “Not to mention, you know, the pile of dead bodies right there,” Matt tilted his head towards the bodies.

  “That too,” Dean said, managing to sound slightly sheepish.

  “We still don’t know what this is,” Sam hovered his hand by the glass jar, the freakish not-demon monster still writhing about inside. 

  “Or how these people died - it’s like they just dropped dead. I don’t sm -  _ see _ any blood or wounds on them,” Matt quickly corrected himself. Most people didn’t smell blood or sense wounds - they just saw them. 

  Suddenly Sam’s heart started beating faster. His face must have changed, because Dean’s next words were full of concern.

  “Sammy, what is it?”

  “Guys, I think this...I think this is a-”

  “Wait,” Matt cut him off, holding up a hand. He suddenly heard something in the warehouse. He could sense them. Nine of them. Demons.

_   “Shit.” _

  “There’s demons in the warehouse - nine of them.”

  “Great. Thanks for the heads up, Horns. The plan was to warn us  _ before _ the demons got inside, you know, so we could leave first?”

  Matt and Az felt the twinge of annoyance in unison, but Matt tried to school his face into a neutral expression.

  “They just appeared. They probably teleported, or used magic somehow.”

  “Great. Well, the way I see it, there’s only one way out of here.” Dean slipped his pistol from inside his jacket and cocked it. Sam was still facing the thing in the jar.

  Dean moved towards the door, but Matt stopped him. 

  “No. We can’t let them know we’re here.”

  “We don’t have much of a choice, do we?”

  Sam shook himself out of his trance, “No, he’s right. If Bouvois knows we’re onto her, it will make it that much harder to stop her.”

  Dean sighed, “Then what do you suggest we do?”

  Matt pushed his senses around the building, “There’s only one way in and out.”

  “Jesus. Please do not say the hallway from hell.”

  Matt hesitated.

  “Jesus,” Dean sighed, hanging his head.

  “How are we going to get past those demons - you said there were nine?” Sam asked.

  “I’m not even going to ask how you know that,” Dean quipped. 

  Matt and Az came up with the idea together - it wasn’t even a conversation. More like the ultimate brainstorm - one where the brains were actually linked in thought. 

  “We use that,” Matt nodded towards the jar.

  Inside, he thought he sensed momentary claws hands pressing against the glass before fading away, a jagged smile that turned into a grimace that turned into a formless mass, the smell of acrid smoke and blood, the rasping breaths - whatever this thing was, it belonged in that hallway from hell with the other monsters. 

  Matt was hoping that’s where the demons downstairs would think it came from. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean put together clues, Matt has a crisis, Claire gets drawn into some weird shit, and everyone's making it by the skin of their teeth. In other words, nothing new.

  Chaos. Everywhere.

  “This was a stupid idea,” Dean hissed, spitting the word  _ stupid _ like it was a curse. 

  Azirale was too entranced by the  _ thing _ they had unleashed to attend to the Winchester. Through a lot of cursing, running, bit-back screams, and hiding with bated breath, they had released the monster-in-a-jar, led it towards the warehouse floor, then let it loose. 

  According to Sam and Dean, it looked like ink, blood, and mud all mixed together, accentuated with softly glowing embers that shone through the oily cloud of mystery horror. To Az and Matt, it smelled like death, sounded like screams, and emanated danger and pain from its roiling, unformed body. But they didn’t need to describe that to the Winchesters, they were pretty sure the brothers were picking up on the “dangerous horror-show monster” bit on their own. 

  As soon as they had unleashed the thing from the jar, every demon in the warehouse had gone on high alert. 

  “Damn it! Who left the door open?” shouted one demon downstairs.

  “Botis! Nic! Get down here!” 

  “You let one of the Queen’s dogs out!”

  The two demons upstairs reluctantly joined the others, got cursed at, and started frantically searching for the missing “dog” - giving Az and the others just enough time to lure the thing downstairs and hide in an abandoned bathroom while the demons started screaming.

  “What the hell is that thing, anyway?” Dean hissed again. The two brothers were peering through the cracked bathroom door at the carnage taking place outside. Az was taking it in via Matt’s senses, but Matt was pretending to look out the door as well. Keeping up appearances, even at a time like this.

  Outside, the “dog” had forced its way into one of demon’s vessels and just….destroyed the demon. Eaten it?  _ Devoured _ it. All Az knew - one moment they could sense the demon inside the human vessel, the next - that thing was moving in, the demon was screaming, the thing was growling and screaming, and then the demon was gone. The thing didn’t even take time to get adjusted to its new body. It just started attacking, paying no heed to the damage it was doing to its own vessel. It was an animal. A beast. Tearing into the demons, taking bites from their physical vessel and from the demon’s essence - Az didn’t even know that was possible.

  Matt winced every time a human vessel was injured, and Az felt a twinge of discomfort as well. But mostly they felt fear and awe.  They echoed Dean’s sentiment - what the hell was this thing?

  “I think it’s human,” Sam whispered, grim.

  “No way that thing is human,” Az scoffed. 

  “I think it used to be human, then,” Sam whispered, more vehemently. His heart was steady. Az felt something drop in their gut - no, that was something dropping in Matt’s gut. Dread. But Matt was already moving past it, carrying Az along with him.

  “No time to talk now. We need to move while they’re distracted.”

  “You want us to go out there with that thing?” Dean hissed. 

  Matt frowned, “That was the plan.”

  “Well, if we’re going, we need to go now. Like, yesterday,” Sam added, fingers drumming against the door frame. 

  “Follow me,” Matt said, and Az tore their attention away from the monster laying waste to the demons on the warehouse floor. If they were all going to get out of here in one piece they needed to focus. Matt understood better how to avoid being seen than Az, who was starting to forget how vision centers worked anyway, but they didn’t want to distract Matt with any rambling thoughts. 

_   “Rambling thoughts like the ones you’re having right now?”  _

  Az sighed,  _ “You’re worse than Fran. If you can’t focus just put your dumb wall back up.” _

_   “Doesn’t exactly work that way- now shut up before you get us killed,”  _ Matt shot back, still skulking towards the boxes of guns they had hidden behind earlier. 

  Sam and Dean skulked along behind them, hearts beating out of control. Matt’s, of course, was silent as the grave. To their right, the demons had grabbed the guns laying in various locations around the warehouse and started laying lead into the monster. The sound was like thunder to them, and they winced - but kept going. There were a thousand thoughts floating around in Az’s mind, and a thousand more in Matt’s but they tried to oblige and shut up and stay focused. 

  A barrage of stray bullets swept over them, but everyone managed to drop the ground in time to avoid being shredded.  The monster’s vessel hadn’t fared so well. The human body was more bullet holes than flesh now, but the monster kept going, crawling and growling like something possessed. Which it was. But this was some Exorcist level nastiness, not your usual dignified demon.

  “Throw it in! Throw it in!” one of the demons suddenly ran towards the exit, yanking the door open and gesturing wildly into the yawning void that waited on the other side. Matt froze, and behind them Dean muttered a curse only they could hear. They were still crouched behind the boxes of guns, only a few meters from the doorway. If all the demons started coming over here, they would be spotted. 

  Luckily - for them, that was, not for the rest of the demons - the monster realized crawling wasn’t getting it anywhere, and flew out of its vessel - the body immediately dropped to the ground. All the demons - including the one by the door - started screaming again and running around like decapitated chickens as the monster hunted for a new vessel.

  “We need to go, now, now, now,” Sam was urging, not even bothering keeping his voice down.

  The three of them broke away from the boxes and made a mad dash for the door. 

  “Aren’t there just more of them in there?” Dean asked, but no one answered. They just plunged back into the void.

_   “You can guide us out of here, right?”  _ Matt’s voice crept into Az’s mind. 

  “ _ Just go straight - don’t get off the path _ .”

  The screams and gunshots behind them vanished instantly, replaced with the whistling of cold wind and guttural growls from an impossible depth. Az snapped Matt’s hand back and grabbed Dean’s hand. The hunter recoiled at first, then let himself be led. They sensed him reaching back and grabbing Sam by the wrist, and then started rushing down the hallway. This time, they didn’t hesitate or stumble - just made a bee-line towards the smell of fresh air coming from the end of the corridor. 

  Just as they reached the door, Az and Matt sensed something rushing towards them - they ducked down, dragging the brothers with them, and used a bit of their supernatural strength to fling them all towards the end of the hall and out the door.  They tumbled haphazardly towards the door, something scraping against them as it tried to get a hold, but they barreled past and burst back onto the dirty alley outside the warehouse. 

  “Keep moving, keep moving,” Matt breathed, hauling Dean behind them as they ran down the alley and back towards the main street, back towards the Impala. 

  When they made it to the car, Dean seemed to realize Matt was still holding his hand and jerked free, brushing his hand on his leather jacket as if wiping off the embarrassment of holding another grown man’s hand. Az rolled Matt’s eyes, but they knew the expression would go unappreciated under the Daredevil mask. 

  “ _ That _ went well,” he huffed, sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

  “We got out, didn’t we?” Az snapped back. They could feel Matt trying to calm them down - their own personal Jiminy Cricket. 

  “Okay, before you start fighting - can we just figure out what the hell that was?” Sam came between Dean and Daredevil, pushing Dean back and brushing his fingertips on Matt’s suit, not certain whether he actually wanted to shove the vigilante or not. 

  “I have a better suggestion - let’s get the hell out of here,” Dean growled, jerking open the driver’s side door of the Impala. 

  “Wait - we need to talk,” Matt stepped a little closer, and Dean’s hand flew to his gun. Az and Matt frowned in unison. 

  “Really? After all that, you’re going to shoot me now?”

  “How do we know we can trust you? We don’t know anything about you!”

  “Calm down, Dean! He saved our asses back there!” Sam intervened again.

  “Or he almost got us killed,” Dean grumbled, but his hand drifted away from the gun.

  Sam waited a moment, hands still spread towards the two men, ready to catch them if they started fighting again. When no one made a move, he ran a hand through his hair. 

  “But Dean’s right. Let’s get out of here.”

“Fine. Get in, Red,” Dean slumped into the driver’s seat before slamming the door. 

Matt stood there awkwardly for a moment, hesitating. 

_ “Get in, you dumbass, before they leave us behind!” _

_ “I thought you hated these guys.” _

_ “I hate the thought of what Bouvois’ goons will do to us worse.” _

  Sam was waiting impatiently by the passenger side door. Az didn’t have time for this. Overriding Matt’s resistance, they pulled open the back door and slid into the worn leather seats. 

  Sam followed, and then Dean tore away from the curb, eager to be far away from the warehouse.

  “Okay, so - thoughts? What was all that?” Az prompted. 

  “I think that...that thing in there, was a corrupted human soul.”

  Matt’s sense of dread crept up in their throat, unsettling something deep inside of Az. That thing in there...it was the furthest thing Azirale had ever seen from human. It was further than demons. Further than monsters they knew were lurking in Purgatory somewhere. 

  “Think about it,” Sam continued, “Those bodies - Daredevil, you said yourself you didn’t see any wounds. They could have been poisoned, but those charts we found, and some of those spell books...Dean, we’ve seen this before. With Abaddon - taking souls, trying to turn them into demons. I mean, she was trying to be Queen of Hell, too. This is the same thing, all over again.”

  Azirale felt a question coming from Matt - who was Abaddon - but all of Az’s memories of the demon suddenly surfaced, flashing quickly through their mind and giving Matt all the information he needed. Knight of Hell. Tried to fight Crowley. Was foiled by the Winchesters. Azirale hadn’t ever had any direct contact with her, they stuck mainly to themself. 

  Matt feigned ignorance, though, when he spoke to the Winchesters, “So this has happened before? How did you stop it back then?”

  Sam and Dean were quiet for a moment. 

  “Well, it was different back then. Abaddon was a powerful demon, and we got another Knight of Hell to help us take her down. But Evangeline isn’t a demon. As far as we know, she’s just a human,” Sam answered finally, albeit a bit uneasily.

  “A human witch. A powerful witch,” Dean supplemented.

  “So she’s trying to become Queen of Hell. She’s trying to win souls for hell here in Hell’s Kitchen by making life miserable - so they’ll cut deals? Sell their souls? Or just make life here so bad people just give up hope,” Sam said, “Either way, she’s trying to do Crowley’s job for him. But why would she...corrupt a human soul like that? What’s the point?”

  “Trying to make a demon?” Dean guessed, and the car fell quiet.

  “That kind of makes sense,” Sam said softly. “I mean, the way it looked - almost like demon smoke. And it possessed that demon’s vessel.”

  “But it didn’t act like a demon,” Az said, drawing the Winchesters’ attention. It was almost like they had forgotten Daredevil was sitting in their backseat. 

  “It didn’t even talk. It was...a monster.”

  “You haven’t been dealing with demons as long as we have, hombre. Demons are monsters,” Dean answered bluntly. Sam tilted his head back towards Matt, but Az couldn’t tell if he was scowling or making a sympathetic face, or if he was just looking out the back windshield. 

  “How did you even find out about demons?” Sam asked.

  Matt hesitated for a moment, and Az was about to step in with a lie when he finally spoke up.

  “I didn’t know what they were at first. I thought they might just be some sort of faction of super-powered criminals, or something. But a few nights ago, a group of men attacked me. There was a demon there - they told me the men were under a spell. And that they were a demon. I didn’t believe them at first, but it started making sense when I looked into it.”

  “Wait - a few nights ago you were attacked by a group of men?”

  Matt and Az went still, “Yeah?”

  “Foggy said that Matt was attacked by a group of thugs a few nights ago, before he was possessed,” Sam said this, speaking mostly to Dean. In the backseat, Matt tensed, and Az wanted to groan. They should have just lied before Matt opened his big fat mouth.

  “The blind guy?” Matt asked, sounding honestly surprised, “You think it was the same guys?”

  “Most likely. Are you sure you didn’t see him anywhere around?”

  “No one else was there - except the demon.”

  “That must have been the demon that possessed Matt. So you ran into them first. What happened?”

  “I got away. I could tell something weird was going on. And the demon threw some taunts my way, but I just wanted to get out of there.”

  “The big bad Devil of Hell’s Kitchen tucked tail and ran?”

  Az gritted their teeth. “I know when a fight’s headed south.”

  “But don’t you have, like, super strength? X-ray vision? All you men in tights have your thing.”

  “I’m not Thor or Captain America. I’m just a man trying to keep his city safe.”

  “Didn’t do too good a job of keeping Matt Murdock safe,” Dean said.

  “I’ll find Matt. I’m not letting anyone get hurt.” Az almost laughed at the conviction with which Matt uttered these words. Matt Murdock was the last person on Matt’s “keep safe from harm” list.

  “Why don’t we head back to his apartment, see if he came back? We can do some research, see if we can use anything from the warehouse to figure out exactly what Bouvois is planning,” Sam suggested, trying to break the nearly tangible tension in the car. Dean grunted in affirmation, but Matt shook his head.

  “I’m going to patrol, keep an ear out on the streets, see if I can find anything else.”

  “Is that really the best idea? You can’t really fight demons the same way you can humans,” Sam said, an actual hint of worry in his voice.

  “I’ve been faring pretty well on my own so far,” Matt grinned. Dean rolled to a stop at a light, and in the blink of an eye, Daredevil had leapt out of his seat - leaving behind only a slamming door and quickly disappearing shadow. Dean cursed quietly, but Matt didn’t stick around to eavesdrop. Az heard the old engine thrumming away into the distance, fading away into the night. 

  “ _ Way to spill the beans, blabbermouth. Now what are we supposed to do? We can’t exactly go home?” _

  Matt sighed, exhausted, “ _ Don’t worry. I know where we can go.” _

 

* * *

  Foggy stumbled into his apartment at 5:00 the next morning, feeling like death warmed over. In a microwave. A crappy microwave, that smelled like burnt popcorn. 

  The Winchesters had come back to the apartment in the dead of night, after leaving Foggy alone for hours with nothing but Matt’s messy flat and a stomach full of anxiety. He couldn’t stop beating himself up for letting Matt and Az out of the apartment, but after researching all that creepy stuff about witches and demons and Evangeline Bouvois, and Matt’s earnest puppy-dog eyes and noble speech about helping the city, Foggy had caved. And now his best friend was out there in the city somewhere, dead, alone, and possessed by a fucking demon. Foggy was officially the worst best friend ever. Or maybe Matt got that award, for putting Foggy through this.

  He was too tired to decide. The Winchesters had set up camp in Matt’s apartment and starting talking about Hell and Sacrifices and Souls and Monsters and Foggy hadn’t understood a word. Then they told him they hadn’t found Matt anywhere. But they had found Daredevil. Who had apparently helped them break into a monster-infested warehouse filled with guns and dead bodies. But Daredevil had declined to come back with them - instead he was going to stay out and look for Matt.

  Asshole. 

  Foggy wasn’t even worried that Azirale was controlling Matt and making him act against his will - because this was all very obviously typical Matt activity. Of course Matt would seek out the most suicidal activity a dead person could risk and throw himself into it head first.  Plus, Azirale had seemed more interested in wrapping Matt up in silk sheets or opening every can in the kitchen and shoving their nose into the contents, or wearing Battlin’ Jack’s old gloves and pretending to box Foggy. 

  At their first meeting, Az had seemed like the epitome of evil. Foggy had been scared shitless.

  The second time, Foggy had been scared shitless, and Azirale had still been evil - but maybe not the epitome. 

  But after being shut up with Matt and Az in 6A for two days, listening to his best friend and the demon argue and research witches and work through a seemingly self-propelled sugar high, Foggy had stopped shitting his pants every time he heard the demon speak. 

  When he dragged his feet into the apartment at 5:00 am, though, he wasn’t happy to hear Azirale’s eerily familiar voice greet him.

  “Well good morning dear. I thought you’d never come home.”

  Foggy stared - Matt was sprawled on his sofa, half undressed, the Daredevil gear scattered on the floor along with some towels and first aide supplies. It looked like he had tried to rewrap his chest. Foggy wasn’t sure what good wrapping the fatal wound would do. Matt’s body was dead. He just hoped Azirale’s demon mojo kept the wound from rotting.

  “Matt. Why is there still a demon in you.”

  “Well, for one thing, they’re keeping me alive.”

  “Right. But the Winchesters were supposed to help you figure that out.  _ You _ were not supposed to help them break into a witches’ evil lair!”

  “We don’t know these guys, Foggy. I needed to know if we could trust them. Plus, we needed more information on Bouvois.  She’s dangerous.”

  “You know what else is dangerous? Being possessed. By a demon.”

  “Az is the least of our worries. Bouvois -”

  Foggy scrunched his face up, waving his hands in the air like a lame duck trying to take flight.

  “Wait wait wait wait.  _ Az is the least of our worries _ ? What are you talking about? Matt, you’re  _ dead _ ! There is a legitimate  _ demon _ ,  _ from hell _ , inside you. You killed someone! Because of  _ it _ !”

  Matt looked stricken at this last statement. 

  “Oh no,” Az’s voice came from Matt’s lips, “I guess it was a little early to congratulate yourself on never sending someone to hell.”

 

* * *

  Claire was tired. She thought she would be used to seeing weird shit by now. Aliens, check. Gods, check. Blind heart-eavesdropping ninjas, check. But this was new. And she didn’t like it.

  She and the other nurses had been looking after the group of patients that had come in five days ago - a seemingly unrelated group of men that looked to have ganged up on Daredevil and come out on the losing end. All suffering from the same strange illness. Extremely high blood pressure, high levels of adrenaline, extended state of high stress on all the body’s muscle and internal organs, disorientation, memory loss, anxiety, bleeding from the eyes, and most notably - explosive, violent anger. 

  Three had died on the first night. Another died last night. One was still in a coma, and two had woken up. Neither could recall what had happened to them, and could hardly remember their names. They constantly forgot what was happening around them and over and over again fell into bouts of that scary violent anger. It was like they turned into beasts - one had actually bitten a nurse before he was restrained.

  Claire had a reputation of being a tough nurse who could put up with anything. So naturally she was put in charge of these patients. She was starting to think she should work on a new reputation.

  When someone told her a pair of specialists had come to see the patients, she breathed a prayer of thanks. Finally, she was catching a break. Honestly, she had no idea where to go with these new patients. If these new guys had some experience with mystery wackado disease, she was glad for any help they could give her.  She shed her gloves in the receptacle and headed towards the reception desk - two men she had never seen before were standing talking to one of the nurses. One was tall, with long dark hair and tan skin - the other was shorter, blondish hair and bright green eyes. They were both fairly attractive, and they both towered over her.  But neither of them were doctors.

  They had the coats, the nametags, the clipboards - but she spotted them instantly.

What the hell was she getting into now.

  Leaning against the desk and crossing her arms, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows at the backs of the two men.

  “I’m guessing you’re supposed to be my specialists.”

  They turned and regarded her with surprise before smiling and introducing themselves.

  “Doctor Livgren and Doctor Steinhardt. We heard you’ve been having trouble with some of your patients - we thought we might be able to help.”

  She didn’t think her eyebrows could shoot any higher without fusing with her hairline, but she could almost feel her forehead vanishing as she cocked her eyebrow at the two men.

  “Claire Temple,” she didn’t take their proffered hand, “And I don’t really have time for bullshit right now. And I don’t think an a capella rendition of Dust in the Wind is really the most appropriate treatment for men in their condition. So, Livgren, Steinhardt - unless you know someone that can really help my patients, please leave.”

  The two men passed each other a look, stuttering slightly. She nodded.

  “That’s what I thought,” Claire bit out, turning to go back to work. 

  “Wait! Claire!” 

  It was the taller one. He was a veritable sasquatch.

  “We really can help. Or at least, we think we can.”

  She narrowed her eyes, staring them in the eyes, “Really?”

  The shorter one shrugged, “You can trust us or not. But we know what happened to those men.”

  She turned back around, “Tell me.”

  “It might sound a little strange.”

  She barked out a short laugh. 

  “Oh trust me, I can handle strange.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one goes out to you, Claire! (plays "Do You Believe in Magic" by the Lovin' Spoonful)  
> with a side of Catholic guilt

  Claire eyed the two men she had allowed into the patient’s room - against her better judgement - and asked herself what her life had become. After calling them out on their lie, they had confessed that their real names were Sam and Dean Winchester, but they still wouldn’t disclose what condition the men were suffering from. 

  “You guys gotta give me something, or I have to kick you out,” she said, running her fingers across her forehead, tucking her hair behind her ear. Instead of answering, the two brothers passed a look - cocking an eyebrow, twitching a lip, seemingly communicating in some sort of secret code comprised of micro expressions. 

  “What is it? Drugs? Overdose? I’m not interested in turning you in - I just want to save these men’s lives.”

  If it was drugs, it was something she had never seen before. Something extremely dangerous. And something she was very interested in turning these goons in for. Something Daredevil could make a top priority. 

  “No, it’s not drugs,” Sam answered. 

  Speaking of Daredevil - Matt’s lie-detecting skills would be extremely handy now. 

  “Then...what?” she was getting impatient. 

  Sam chewed on his lip, and she could tell he was cooking up a lie. Or at least an excuse. 

  “Okay, you know what? This was a bad idea. I-”

  “It’s a spell.”

  She snapped her head towards Dean, who was pulling the patient’s eyelid back with a gloved finger. After observing the bloodshot eye with a cringe, he shook his hand in the air with a disgusted expression, trying to shake off the sick man’s cooties. 

  “Excuse me?”

  Dean looked up, lips pursed slightly, “A spell. Magic.”

  Claire felt a headache coming on.

  “Alright - how do you know this? Saying that I believe you.”

  “We’ve dealt with this before. We weren’t lying - we really are specialists.”

  Sam huffed a laugh, “Yeah - just not with obscure diseases.”

  “Magic specialists?”

  “Yeah.”

  Claire really wanted Matt’s lie-detecting skills right now.  She was almost tempted to call him, but having Matt around tended to raise her stress levels, and she didn’t think she could handle that right now. Besides, according to Foggy’s last call,and the news reports circulating around the city, Matt had his own stuff to deal with right now.  But she couldn’t think about that, she needed to think about her patients. 

  “Tell me about this spell, then,” she snapped. 

  Sam and Dean raised their eyebrows in unison, “You believe us?”

  “I don’t know - but like I said, I’m pretty used to strange. And I’m at the end of my rope here. So start talking.”

  They were both staring at her with jaws slightly agape, frozen in surprise. 

  “Now!”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  “Uh, well, this looks like the Attack Dog Spell. You cast it on someone, and then sic them on whoever you’re trying to take down.”

  “Like Daredevil? It looks like these guys tussled with our local vigilante.”

  “Maybe. It sends them into a state of hyper aggression, desensitizes them from pain, and inhibits rational thought. And they don’t stop until they take down whoever they were sicced on, or until they drop dead,” Sam said.

  “Or until someone reverses the spell.”

  There was a moment of silence, and she realized they were waiting for her to react. God, these guys were worse than Matt with all the dramatics. 

  “So how do you reverse the spell?”

  They blinked at her.

  Dean scrunched his brow together, “Wait, wait. You believe us, just like that? Two guys come in posing as doctors, talking about magic, and you just roll with it?”

  “Pretty much. This is Hell’s Kitchen, boys. You can’t afford to write anything off as impossible anymore - especially not me. So tell me how this works - if it’s not invasive, go at it. Then we’ll see for certain whether all this magic mumbo jumbo is for real or not.”

  The two brothers glanced at each other, shrugged, then started bustling around the room. Dean plopped down a bag on the side table and began emptying it while Sam went around to every window and pulled the blinds, then locked the door. Claire stood beside her patient - Ramone Perez. He got a private room, because whenever he woke up he flew into a rage and started attacking anyone within three feet, talking about “killing the devil.” That also explained the restraints. 

  Once again she found her thoughts drifting towards Matt. There wasn’t conclusive evidence, but she had her money on that these men had tangled with him. By now she recognized the bruises and injuries he left behind. But at least he had left these men alive - unlike that rapist the other night. And apparently Foggy was right about Matt’s weird new powers  - because according to reports from downstairs, Daredevil had teleported the victim directly into the hospital lobby before zapping out again. And now these men were talking about magic and spells - she started to wonder if the two were related. 

  Because Matt had killed a man. He had crossed a line he had promised to never cross. She had to believe something else was going on, something outside her knowledge, outside his control. She didn’t want to think what it meant if he had finally snapped. She had tried calling him, but no he didn’t answer. She would have gone over to talk to him, but she had been too insanely busy these past few days. 

  These men weren’t the only strange cases the hospital had been dealing with recently. They had been receiving comatose patients from the streets, mostly homeless that had been mistaken for dead. And violent crimes and drug overdoses had been seemingly in overdrive for the past few weeks. Plus a few amnesiac patients that had wandered in with strange injuries and no memories of the past few days.  So when Sam and Dean appeared talking about magic spells, she was ready to listen. Maybe that would explain why Hell’s Kitchen had kicked up its levels for bizarre behavior. Including Matt. 

  But when Dean started pulling out knives that looked like they belonged in a butcher’s shop or hunter’s belt, she became much less open minded.

  “Whoa whoa - I said non-invasive!”

  Dean looked from the knives to her, “Oh! Oh, no. These aren’t for him.”

  “Then what are they for?”

  “Hopefully you won’t ever have to know.”

  Yeah. Matt would get along great with these guys.

  “So what are you going to do, then?”

  “Well, we don’t know who cast the spell, or if they used a hex bag or not - that would make things too easy. So a general reversal spell and purification should work. Hopefully.”

  “Do I need to call a priest or something?”

  Sam laughed, “Uh, no. I think we got this handled.”

  “Well before you do anything, I need you to explain exactly what you’re going to do. I’m already risking my neck by just considering this.”

  “We’ll light some candles, draw some symbols, say a few words in latin.”

  “And he snaps out of it, just like that?”

  “There might be a bit more...resistance than that.”

  She groaned. Of course.

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Just...stay out of the way.”

  She bit back a curse and went to the door, peeking out the gap between the blinds and glass, making sure no one came near. Sam arranged a handful of candles around the room, forming a loose circle around Ramone, then lit them. Dean was standing beside the bed, flipping through a worn leather journal. 

  Clearing his throat, he began.“ Hoc corpus purgandum est a malo. Undo in malum…”

  Ramone’s eyes suddenly popped open. He began straining against the straps holding him down, gnashing his teeth and gurgling. Sam pressed down on his shoulders, but it was obviously taking a lot of effort. Whatever they were doing, it was having some sort of effect. Claire glanced into the hallway again, praying that no one would hear.

  Dean continued spewing Latin that Claire couldn’t understand, and Ramone continued thrashing and growling like some sort of animal. The candles around the room had all flared up, the flames shooting up several inches and remaining there, hardly flickering or gusting. An oppressive, dark atmosphere had settled over the room - for a moment she thought the fluorescent overhead lights had gone out, but when she looked at them she could tell they were still on. The light didn’t seem to be escaping the bulbs and seeping into the room, however. Even the light of the candles seemed almost fake somehow, like a trick painting or an optical illusion.  She was having trouble focusing - her whole body was on high alert, her heart beating loud enough she was sure the doctors and nurses outside in the hall would hear it. It seemed like this had been going on for hours, but she knew it hadn’t even been a full minute. There was a heady, smothering sensation in the air, making it hard to breathe. 

  S he snapped back into focus when Ramone surged up with a roar - Sam quickly covered his mouth to cut the shout off, but he couldn’t do anything to stop the patient from ripping through the restraints and pummeling him in the stomach.  Sam grunted and buckled, and Ramone started getting up from the bed. His legs were still restrained, though, so he just half-fell off the bed awkwardly. Sam shoved him back to the mattress, and Claire surged to his side, helping him hold the man down.

  “You almost done?” she bit out through gritted teeth. 

  Dean didn’t respond except to scowl; just kept reading Latin from that stupid book.

  “Not long now,” Sam answered, however. 

  “Someone’s gonna hear this,” Claire said, glancing to the door.

  In just that moment, though, Dean read the last of whatever magic spell he was reciting. The candles guttered and went out with a flare of light - Claire swore she heard an audible pop - and then the strange atmosphere that had settled over the room vanished. The lights surged back to their normal state, the buzzing electricity sounding like thunder in the sudden quiet. 

  Sam was already gathering the supplies, snatching the candles and throwing them in the duffel, waving smoke out of the air. Ramone was laying still on the bed, panting. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, pale, trembling slightly. Claire was immediately at his side, checking vitals, checking his responses, gauging his condition.  His pulse was a little thready, but much steadier than it had been before. His eyes were still bloodshot, but he seemed much more present than he had been for a few days.

  “Mr. Perez? Can you hear me?”

  “Wha...what…”

  “Mr. Perez, you’re in the hospital. You were...there was an accident. But you’re okay. How do you feel?”

  He swallowed, struggled a few moments for words, “Uh...headache. My ears...ringing. And...can I have some water?”

  Claire smiled, “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  Her smile vanished as soon as she turned her back. She grabbed Sam and Dean by the elbows and surged out of the room.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “That was us, breaking the spell,” Dean responded with a bit of a smirk. 

  Suddenly a doctor was there, asking what had happened to Perez. A small troop of medical staff swept around them, checking on the patient and asking Claire a dozen questions she had no idea how to answer.

  “Uh, we still need to ask him some questions - about who did this,” Dean leaned over and whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, I have quite a few questions of my own,” she shot back, “So don’t go anywhere - or I will hunt you down and kick your ass!” 

  She made sure to send them each a patent Claire Temple glare before hurrying off with the doctor to try to come up with an explanation for what had just happened.

 

* * *

  Matt was vaguely aware of Az talking to Foggy, but he couldn’t focus on anything beyond that. He knew if he were still alive, his heart would be beating out of control and he would probably be hyperventilating. Just a standard panic attack. 

  He didn’t know if being dead made it better or worse. He could take a breath in, but he had to consciously, manually inhale and exhale - and his heart was of course silent and still. So he wasn’t spinning out of control like normal, but instead there was just - nothing. His body didn’t even shiver or tremble. Still, he scrabbled his fingers over his arms and rubbed his shoulders, desperate for any sort of calming, repetitive motion and physical sensation. 

  He had killed someone. Yeah, sure, he had been under the influence of demonic possession, but that was no excuse. Because Az hadn’t been in control. Matt was present, Matt was there, Matt had made that decision. 

  He had sent that guy to hell.

  A part of him said that’s where he belonged. That the world was better off without him.

  At first Matt thought Az was talking in his head, but no - that was just him. A part of him he tried to shut out.

  God, he was fucked up.

  “So this is what they mean by Catholic guilt. I have to say, I’m not a fan,” Az was speaking - Matt wasn’t sure who they were talking to. Foggy, or Matt, or just talking to be talking. Az was a fan of their own voice. 

  “Where’s that priest? Can’t he just absolve us or whatever and get this over with?”

  Foggy scoffed, “I don’t think confession works for demons.”

  “I don’t think one’s ever tried before.”

  “Can I talk to Matt now?”

  Matt jerked his head in Foggy’s direction - Az wasn’t really doing anything with his body at the moment, just letting Matt have free reign. That sounded nice - just sitting back and letting someone else take control. Not having responsibility for anything. 

  “ _ Careful, that’s awful tempting for a demon to hear,”  _ Az said.

  Matt shook his head - he forgot he let Az have free access to his head. What the hell had he been thinking. That they were friends? That he could trust this thing? Azirale was a demon!

  “ _ Ouch, Matt. That hurts my feelings.” _

  And Matt  _ felt _ it. He could feel that Az’s feelings were hurt - that the demon actually had real feelings in the first place, despite their sarcastic tone.

  “Sorry,” Matt mumbled aloud, still having trouble processing his thoughts.

  “It’s okay, man, just talk to me,” Foggy responded. 

  Right. Foggy was here. And he was lying.

  “It’s not okay,” Matt growled.

  Foggy was crouched on the floor next to Matt, who was sitting with his legs loosely folded in front of him. The whole apartment smelled of Foggy. Fruity shampoo, coffee, take-out Thai food, that slightly musty scent sheets get when you go too long without washing them. A bottle of liquor was sitting on the counter.  Foggy ran a hand through his hair - Matt could still detect some of that fruity shampoo, but Foggy hadn’t washed his hair in a while. It smelled a little oily, a little sweaty. Not bad. Just, like Foggy.

  “I mean, it’s not. It’s not okay. But we’ll deal with it.”

  “A man is dead, because of me,” Matt rasped. 

  “Yeah. And you have to deal with that. And I have to deal with it too. Because I have the worst best friend in history,” the teasing lilt in Foggy’s voice fell a little flat. 

  Matt hung his head.

  “Not that I’m complaining. I mean, I am a little bit, but I think I can complain. I have that right, for all the hell you put me through.”

  Matt winced, and Foggy stuttered.

  “Right. Hell. Touchy subject. Speaking of - can someone explain to me exactly what the fuck is going on?”

  “Well, there’s an evil witch trying to send everyone in Hell’s Kitchen to hell. Or claim their souls. Or turn their souls into demons. There was a lot of guns and screaming and papers involved, so we didn’t get the entire picture,” Az responded.

  Matt could tell Foggy was making a face. An unhappy face. Not because his radar sense could pick up the slight movement of facial muscles or anything; no, this was his Foggy sense acting up. 

  “Yeah - want to tell me what’s going on with this?” Foggy spread a hand towards Matt, “When did you two become so buddy buddy?”

  “We’re not buddy buddy,” Matt answered instantly. 

  Silence. Foggy was making a face. 

  “You were pretty buddy buddy before heading out to fight evil witches with the Winchesters, and now it’s...it’s getting harder to actually tell who’s talking. I mean, besides the angst and the sarcasm, that makes it pretty obvious.”

  “I can be even more sarcastic, if that helps,” Az said. Matt snapped their mouth shut, though. They were scaring Foggy. Or making him angry. His heart rate was picking up, but Matt was still too disoriented to tell why. 

  “ _ Hey, I was talking _ !” Az said. 

  “ _ You’re freaking Foggy out. _ ”

  “ _ What? No I’m not! We’re besties. If anything, _ you’re  _ the one freaking him out _ .”

  Matt couldn’t hear Azirale’s heartbeat, but he knew the demon was being serious. Did Az really think Foggy was their friend? Or were they just being influenced by Matt’s memories?

  “ _ Why are you overthinking this so much? I just want to help out _ !” Azirale jerked Matt out of his wondering.

  “ _ Why? Why do you want to help _ ?”

  “ _ I...I just do. Plus, maybe I’ll get some brownie points for rubbing elbows with such a devout Catholic _ .”

  But Matt was in Az’s head. He could hear the demon’s thoughts, feel their emotions, what they were really feeling. He sighed.

  “We have to take care of Bouvois and all the other demons in the city, then we’ll figure out what to do about...this.” Matt said to Foggy, gesturing to himself.

  “It might be too late, then, Matt!” Foggy hissed, “I think we need to tell the Winchesters everything, now!”

  “Really, Foggy? Do they seem like the most trustworthy people to you?”

  Foggy grumbled, “I mean...no….but…”

  Matt and Az rose to their feet. Matt pushed all thoughts of his first murder to the back of his mind, burying deep. He would deal with that later. Right now they had to deal with a witch.

  And work.

  “Wha...what have you been telling Karen?”

  “That you’ve been sick. And I’ve been taking care of you. Lucky this happened on a weekend.”

  “Not that you all would have been rolling in clients, anyway,” Az said.

  Foggy jutted a finger in their face, “Hey. I don’t want to hear that from you. I’m still not cool with any of this.”

  Az put their hands in the air. Matt sighed and put his hands back down. Foggy was already walking away. 

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to call Father Lanthom and tell him what’s going on. He’s worried about you Matt.”

  “I don’t think he’ll be too happy with...what’s going on.”

  “No, I don’t think he will.”

  The conversation went about as well as Matt had expected. After learning Matt was willingly cooperating with Azirale, Lanthom said until the time that he was prepared to repent of this sin and part ways with the demon, the Church couldn’t help him anymore.

  The call ended, Foggy sighed, and Matt stayed on the couch, head bowed. 

  “Oh, there’s a message from Karen. Probably wondering how you’re doing, or what’s really going on.”

  Matt grumbled a response.

  “Why don’t you just tell her? I mean, you trust her, right?” Az spoke up, and Matt clenched his fists.

  “That’s something I would normally agree on, but demons? Witches? That’s a heavy place to jump in on with this whole vigilante crimefighter mess,” Foggy chimed in, still looking at his phone.

  There was the sound of a button dinging, then a message began to play.

  “Hey, Foggy. It’s Karen. Uh...but you already knew that. Look. I know you’re with Matt. And I know you know what’s really going on. You don’t have to tell me, but...but please don’t lie anymore, okay? I thought we were all….” There was a pause, then, “Anyway. I did some digging online. And things like this have happened to other people. Randomly demonstrating...abilities. Powers.” A short laugh, “I guess that’s just the world we live in now. But the other day...with Matt. There’s people that can help. If that’s what’s happening. Which I don’t know, because no one will tell me. Anyways. I was just...thinking. Of you two. I wish I was there, helping. Tell Matt hi.” Then she hung up.

  “Well, good news, she has no clue about demons,” Azirale spoke up, earning a groan from both Matt and Foggy. 

  Matt ran a hand through his hair. And he thought his life had been complicated before. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire tries to keep the Winchesters in line, Foggy tries to keep Matt and Az in line, and neither of them really succeed

  Claire’s entire body and facial expression said “ _ Go screw yourself, I don’t believe a word you’re saying, you lunatic _ ,” but she just nodded and asked more questions when Dean tried to explain magic and witches and demons to the nurse. 

  The information they had gotten from Perez wasn’t mind-blowingly helpful, but it was a start. Kind of. He had been assaulted during his walk home from work, bound and gagged, thrown in the back of a truck and driven to some warehouse. He didn’t know where, and couldn’t describe the building. The other men had already been in the truck when he was abducted. When the truck finally stopped moving, the door only opened for a moment before a woman was stepping inside and speaking to them. He didn’t remember much after that, just feelings of rage and confusion. There were a few blurry memories of wandering the streets, of fighting someone - all he could say was that it might have been Daredevil, he couldn’t remember. 

  “Do you remember anything specific, at all? Just a smell, or an image could be helpful,” Sam coaxed while Dean rolled his eyes.

  Perez worried his lip, “I’m sorry...I can remember...there was a big green sign, like a billboard, on the side of the building...and...this sounds crazy, but it smelled like barbecue.”

  So, not really helpful, at all.  He did give a description of the woman though, which pretty much matched up with what Foggy had shown them on his computer back in Matt’s flat.  Again, not super helpful. 

  But they had saved someone from an evil spell, so there was that.

  And now Dean was talking to a very attractive, very capable nurse with a no-bullshit, straight-forward attitude that was definitely doing something for him. Normally he would be chatting her up, trying to maybe get some digits, or at least take her out for a drink - but he just wasn’t feeling it. He was having trouble just staying focused on their present case. Because Cas was still out there, and Dean just knew something bad had happened to him. Since when did bad things not happen to them? It was just a fact of life now.

  “Have you seen this man, by any chance?” Sam said, snapping Dean out of his worried musings.

  Sam pulled out the photograph of Matt Murdock and showed it to Claire, who jolted for a second in surprise before schooling her expression back to neutral. 

  “Why? Who is he?”

  “His name is Matt Murdock. His friends are actually the ones that called us up here. He’s been possessed by a demon and seems to have vanished.”

  “He’s possessed?” Claire almost barked. Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean.

  “We haven’t met him yet, but that’s what his friends told us,” Sam answered. 

  “Yeah, but apparently he can control the demon, whatever that means. They won’t accept he’s long gone,” Dean added. 

  “But you can just exorcise him right? That’s what you guys do.” Claire stared at them, eyes hard.

  “That’s not the problem. The problem is he’s been injured. Badly. When a person is possessed, the demon can continue to animate their body even after...they’ve died. Then they just become an empty shell,” Sam said gently, shooting Dean a look.

  Claire’s nostrils were flared, and her eyes darted frantically around the room as she ran a hand through her hair. Her lips were moving, muttering something to herself to quiet for the brothers to hear.

  “Claire. Claire,” Sam got her attention, “Do you know this guy?”

  “How badly is he injured?”

  “What?”

  “How is he hurt?” She shouted, quickly quieting her voice and nervously tapping a fist to her lips, “There’s a theory on how to treat trauma patients whose wounds are bad enough they would die in normal surgery. But I need details.”

  Sam stared at her for a moment, “Claire, I don’t think you understand…”

  “Matt is still alive, and his body is being preserved, or animated, by a demon, right?”

  “Well, his friend thinks he’s still in there, but-”

  “Wait, wait. How do you know this guy?” Dean interrupted. 

  “We’re….friends,” Claire answered, glancing to the side. 

  “Listen. He’s in danger. He’s putting other people in danger. Do you know where he is? We need to find him.”

  “I still don’t understand how Matt is caught up in all this...spells, and witches? I’m still trying to wrap my head around this!”

  “You don’t need to wrap your head around it. Just tell us where he is,” Dean said. Sam shot him a disapproving look. It hardly rivaled the glare Claire was giving him. 

  “What are you going to do if you find him?”

  The brothers hesitated for a moment before Sam spoke up, “We’ll exorcise the demon.”

  “The demon that’s currently keeping his body from dying? What about Matt?”

  “I’m not sure what we can do for him, at this point.”

  “If Foggy says Matt is still in control I believe him. You might know demons and magic, but you don’t know Matt like I do. He’s saved too many people in this city, he deserves to get saved now. So when I ask what you’re going to do when you find him, there’s only one answer I want to hear - that you’re going to help me save him. If that’s not the answer, you can leave.”

  She had her hands on her hips, her brows up and her jaw set. 

  Dean groaned and ran a hand down his face, “This would all be so much easier if Cas were here.” 

  Sam huffed a laugh, “Tell me about it.”

  Claire was still glaring, waiting for an answer. Dean liked Claire, but he didn’t want to deal with this right now. There was a witch running around killing people, corrupting their souls, running crime rings and sending demons out to terrorize the city, and they were getting chewed out by a nurse. Over one possessed dude. Frankly, they didn’t have time to track down this guy and figure out how to save him - not if they wanted to save the city. Because the more they looked into this case the more Dean got a sick feeling in his gut something big, and bad, was coming. 

  “What do you mean, he’s saved people?” Sam asked.

  Claire paused for a just a moment before answering, “He’s a lawyer. He speaks up for the people in Hell’s Kitchen who don’t get heard. He and Foggy took out Wilson Fisk - you know what, it doesn’t matter. I’ve got other patients, and you’ve probably got other magicky, demon-hunting things to do. I don’t know where Matt is. But if I find out anything, I’ll call you. Do you have phone numbers, or do I need a summoning circle and some Latin to contact you?”

  Sam laughed, Dean rolled his eyes. They exchanged numbers, with a promise they would call her as soon as they found out anything about Matt. 

  They strolled out of the hospital, headed for the familiar sleek black body of the Impala as they ditched their doctor coats and Dean fished the keys out of his pocket. 

  “She’s definitely hiding something.”

  “Yeah, I got that. But what?”

  “I don’t know, but Foggy was hiding something too. He kept saying Matt had special training or something? And why would he let his demon possessed friend out of the apartment? A lot of things aren’t adding up here.”

  “So, we should probably pay Foggy a visit?”

  “Sounds like a plan, little brother.”

 

* * *

  Matt was asleep. So was Azirale. Foggy didn’t know if one of them could be awake while the other slept, or not, or if they really even needed to sleep at all. Matt was exhausted, and Azirale had seemed excited about the prospect of experiencing human sleep patterns. However it worked, they were completely out of it, and he was just glad he didn’t have to talk to either of them at the moment.  These past few days had been exhausting, and Foggy wished he could pass out on the couch like Matt and his little demon, but he had work to do. Karen had picked up their slack these past few days, and although Az liked making digs about their lack of clients, they did have some people that really needed their legal help. 

  Foggy felt his eyes closing as he nodded over paperwork, working at the kitchen table with his second cup of coffee to keep him company. His pen fell loose in his grip and left a stray mark on the paper before he jerked back into awareness. His eyelids felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each as he struggled to keep them open and read over what he had just written. A groan escaped him when he realized the lines were barely legible and completely unusable. 

  There was a sound by the door, but for a second his tired brain told him to ignore it, to lay his head on the table and let someone else deal with it. But then the actual smart part of his brain reminded him of demons and witches and vigilantes and criminals and he jumped out of his chair, toppling it to the ground with a clatter.  Matt, or Az, or Matt/Az - sat straight up on the couch like they’d been electrocuted. 

  “What’s going on?” Matt asked.

  “Winchesters,” Az answered, cutting Matt off and garbling their words together. Two voices trying to speak from the same mouth sounded a bit like someone having a stroke, but Foggy got the gist of it. 

  “Foggy?” a voice came from the door. 

  This was too much for him to deal with right now - he just really, really wanted a nap.  But he lugged his weary bones to the front door, which to his surprise he already found open. Sam and Dean Winchester were standing just inside his entryway, looking as startled as he did.

  “Did...did you guys just break into my apartment?”

  Dean stared at him wide-eyed, then glanced down at the lockpicks still clutched in his hands, then back at Foggy.

  “Uh...no.”

  Sam elbowed Dean, who muttered something under his breath, which prompted Sam to whisper something back, and for a moment it seemed the two brothers had completely forgotten Foggy was there.

  “What are you guys doing here? Is everything okay? Did...did you find Matt?” 

  “No. But we ran into your friend Claire at the hospital.”

  “You met Claire?” Foggy exclaimed, “Wait - why were you at the hospital?”

  “We were talking to one of the guys Evangeline kidnapped and turned into an attack dog. He didn’t know anything.”

  “Well, his description matched the pictures you showed us, so at least we know we’re on the right track.”

  Dean rolled his eyes, “Yeah. That and the smell of barbecue. We’re on fire.”

  Foggy squinted and massaged his temples - his confusion was overwhelming his sense of panic.

  “Wait...barbecue? What - no, nevermind. I can’t believe you just broke into my house.”

  Dean shrugged, pocketing his lockpicks and strolling in like he owned the place, “Sorry, amigo, didn’t know you were home.”

  Foggy fought his instinct to block Dean from entering - he didn’t want to look suspicious, and he was sure Matt had left as soon as Foggy left the room. Of course, he had been the one trying to convince Matt to meet with the Winchesters; but now, thinking what would happen if they ran into each other unexpectedly in Foggy’s living room, Foggy couldn’t help but agree they needed more strategy when dealing with these two brothers. 

  “So you were just going to break in, make yourselves at home, and...what? Search my place? Rifle through my underwear?”

  Sam bumped shoulders with Foggy as he walked past - well, they didn’t really bump shoulders, seeing that Sam was about fifty feet taller than Foggy. It was more like colliding with a brick wall.  But the antagonism came through clear as day. 

  “If we did search your place, what would we find?” Sam asked, nonchalantly glancing around the room. Foggy couldn’t help but give it a good once over, himself. Matt, the suit, and the bandages were all gone. But that didn’t mean there was some incriminating sign of Matt’s presence still hidden away somewhere, waiting for the Winchesters to spot it. 

  “Um...a lot of boring paperwork. Underwear. Probably the other half of my socks, if you look hard enough. I’ve never been able to find them.”

  “Claire told us some interesting things at the hospital. About Matt.”

  Foggy gulped, “Uh...okay? Like what?”

  Dean and Sam were circling him, eyeing him like tigers about to dig into prey. Foggy had seen this look before - in the courtroom. And if these two brothers thought they could intimidate him with words, they had another thing coming. It was obvious they suspected something, but Foggy wasn’t sure what.

  “About his special training, that you’re so sure gives him immunity to demon possession.”

  Foggy relaxed. They didn’t know anything. They were just trying to badger it out of him. 

  “I told you guys, when he was in the orphanage, there was this weird old man who taught him how to meditate and stuff!”

  “Meditation isn’t enough to resist demon possession.”

  “Well, that’s all I really know.”   
  Suddenly Sam was in front of him, squaring his shoulders, “We’re here to help you, Foggy. We’re trying to help Matt. But unless we know everything, there’s not a lot we can do.”

  Foggy shrugged, “I don’t know what to tell you, man.”

  Sam’s face twisted, angry, and yeah - a little scary - but suddenly Dean smacked him on the arm.

  “Sammy, let’s go. He obviously doesn’t know anything.”

  Sam gave Dean a startled look, turning around to face Dean, who was standing by the couch looking at his phone.

  “Let’s go check out the next warehouse on the list. On 40th.”

  “Dean, wha…”

  “Come on, let’s go. Let’s stop wasting time here.”

  Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder and walked out without so much as another look at Foggy. Sam sputtered for a moment before following his brother out, slamming the door behind him. 

  “What the fuck…”Foggy breathed slowly. The apartment was strangely calm, suddenly empty of all tension from a few seconds ago. Then suddenly there was a faint clatter at the window, and Foggy saw a shadow pass over the glass before it suddenly vanished.

  He ran to the window and threw it open, resisting the urge to shout. Instead, in a normal speaking volume, he called out, “Matt! Wait!”

  Nothing.

  “Matt! Azirale! Get back here you bastards!”

  Nothing. 

  With a sigh, he closed the window and trudged back to his sofa, unable to shake the sense of unease that settled over him since the Winchesters barged in. They obviously suspected Matt of something, but what? Did they know he was Daredevil? How much had Claire told them?

  He was pulling his phone out to call her when he noticed something on the couch. Blood.  Not a lot. A few dark, discolored red drops.  Not to mention the squashed pillow where someone had obviously been laying their head.  Foggy put his hand on the cushion - it was still warm from where Matt had been sleeping.

  He groaned - of course Dean had noticed that. But why not call Foggy out about it right there? Why run off? 

  Foggy’s heart started hammering a little faster - Dean hadn’t just run off. He had told Sam exactly where they were going. 

  Had told Matt exactly where they were going.

  He turned back to the window, staring past the glass panes and into the night, the thin, watery darkness swirling through the city lit by the occasional sickly yellow street lamps. What if Dean had seen Matt lurking out there on the fire escape? Had he put his suit back on? How much did they know?

  However much they knew, Dean was definitely luring Matt into a trap. 

  “God damn it, Murdock,” Foggy cursed, grabbing a jacket. So much for getting that paperwork done. Karen was going to kill him. Kill both of them - that is, if the Winchesters didn’t kill Matt first. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some proper introductions are made

  “ _ Matt, slow down. You sure this is a good idea _ ?”

  Matt shrugged off Az’s inner worries as he sped towards the location Dean had mentioned in Foggy’s apartment. 

  “ _ What if this is a trap?” _

  Yeah, Matt had considered that too. The Winchesters were obviously suspicious of him and Foggy, but they didn’t know Matt Murdock was Daredevil. And it was Daredevil that was going to show up at that warehouse. 

  “ _ I’m not going to just jump in clueless. We’ll hang back and check things out first _ ,” Matt answered Azirale, but he could tell it did little to abate the demon’s worries. Still, Az wasn’t stopping them from going, so they went. 

  Matt told himself he was investigating, he was helping his city, he was stopping bad people - and other bad things - from hurting innocent people. And it was all true. But the idea of leaving behind all his other problems for a few hours while he focused on something that didn’t require quite as much emotional investment had a certain appeal, as well. Unfortunately, he couldn’t lie to Az, who saw right through his excuses. Fortunately, Az didn’t feel the need to comment.  In fact, they almost seemed...sympathetic. 

  Which Matt appreciated. He knew Foggy had the right, but he really didn’t appreciate his best friend chewing him out and preaching to him about morality. He didn’t want to see Claire, either, who he knew would have a lot to say, too. Everyone seemed to have something to say to him - the news wanted to know if Daredevil had turned a new, darker corner with his first documented murder. Karen wanted Matt to come clean about everything and stop keeping her in the dark. 

  Az didn’t want to say anything, because everything Matt had to say Az knew. And they didn’t feel the need to tell Matt he was doing everything wrong.  They understood.  And Matt was beginning to understand Az. Demon, yes. Evil incarnate? Not quite.  Az had a very unique perspective on the world that Matt was beginning to appreciate. Maybe not agree with 100%, but he understood them. And they helped him understand a couple of other things, too. 

  “ _ I thought you were shying away from emotional investment? But here you are, pining away after me like a lovesick-”  _ Az began. 

  So much for them not having a lot to say. 

  “Shh. We’re here,” Matt hissed, stopping on the edge of a building, feeling the weight of his body centering, the balls of his feet exerting pressure on the stained concrete. At first he thought the combination of his new superhuman strength and the fact his body was technically dead would always have him off-kilter. In a fight, understanding one’s own body - how it acted, how it moved, how it reacted - was key. But he was already starting to comfortable in this not-quite-new body. 

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he worried that if Azirale was ousted from his body, if he could adjust once again to the way he had been.  But he pushed that thought away - Azirale might have helped drag that particular line of thought down - and focused on the scene beneath them. 

  The familiar hum of the Impala’s engine had gone silent, though they had heard it from a distance a few minutes ago. Matt could still smell the gasoline and hot metal. He also smelled spray paint.  He wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming scent, sharp and unpleasant. He cast his senses around, but couldn’t determine the specific location of the paint. It was nearby, but there were a lot of other smells muddling the trail - trash, cigarette smoke, weed from a group of kids a street away, barbeque from a nearby restaurant. At first Matt thought the potheads might be the ones with the spray paint, covering a wall with graffiti or something - but that didn’t seem quite right. He shrugged it off and focused on the two people standing on the street below. 

  “ _ What are they doing?”  _ Matt wondered.

  “ _ Probably planning our demise.” _

_   “Our demise? Or Matt Murdock’s demise?” _

_   “You know you’re the same person, right? Do you have split personality disorder or something? Because you know the saying, three’s a crowd…” _

_   “But five’s a party,”  _ Matt said, preparing to jump down and join the Winchesters. Az stopped him.

_   “Hold up! You said you were going to case the situation!”  _

_   “There’s nothing going on.” _

_   “So let’s relax. Enjoy the show. See what happens.” _

_   “That’s Dubois’ warehouse. We should check it out.” _

_   “Like last time? That was a disaster! We almost got annihilated!” _

  Matt wasn’t listening to Az anymore - something else had caught his attention. The teenagers smoking joints had suddenly stopped talking. He honed in on them, trying to filter out all other distractions and figure out what was happening.

  “What do you want, creep?” one of the kids said. 

  Matt could detect four heartbeats. All of them young, all of them beginning to race. But there was something else, something he hadn’t noticed before - a smell. Like death. 

  “ _ Demon,”  _ Matt and Az realized at the same time. 

  Without hesitation, they leapt down from the building, landed in an alleyway, then bolted across the street. 

  “What the-”

  “ _ You? _ ”

  The Winchesters exclaimed, jumping at the sudden appearance of Daredevil.

  “This way - there’s a demon!” Matt yelled, not slowing down. 

  He heard the Winchesters curse, check their weapons, then follow. 

  “Hold up! Not all of us have friggin’ superpowers!” Dean shouted as Matt and Az sped ahead, leaving the brothers in their dust. It occurred to Matt that an obvious display of Az’s power might give them away, but he could hear the kids start to shout in alarm, scattering to get away from the demon. 

  Then one of them screamed, the sound stabbing through the night like a knife. Matt was certain the brothers had heard it. 

  The other kids were in a panic now. When Matt rounded the corner, he was having a hard time piecing together the scene before him. 

  Two of the kids had bolted. One of them was laying on the ground, trembling. The fourth was being held aloft by the demon. The demon smelled of death and decay, and the smell mixed with the weed and the blood and the stink of the alley and made Matt want to vomit. 

  There was a lot of noise, too, though Matt couldn’t tell where most of it was coming from. He could hear the kid on the ground’s heart racing. Same for the one being held aloft. But there was another sound - he thought one of the kids was screaming, but it didn’t sound quite right, or in the right place. It was like someone had taken a recording of a scream and altered it, adding ambient noise, and wind, and discordant chimes, then distorted the recording again, and was playing it out of thin air somewhere in front of Matt. 

  Before he could act, the Winchesters arrived behind him, out of breath but ready to fight. 

  “Hey! Put him down!” Sam shouted, aiming a gun at the demon. 

  “Shit. We got to stop it,” Dean hissed, drawing a knife and running forwards. 

  The demon finally seemed to notice them, dropping the kid like a sack of potatoes and running. Matt heard the sound again, except this time it sounded sped up and reversed. And then just like that, it was gone. When it vanished, it was like something in the atmosphere popped. Matt hadn’t even been aware of the strange feeling until it was gone, but suddenly the air felt much lighter and clear. He didn’t have much time to mull it over, though.

  Dean ran after the demon, while Matt and Sam checked on the kid.

  “Is he alright?” Matt asked.

  Sam nodded, “He’s fine. Unconscious. Go help Dean, I got this.”

  Matt nodded, then took off after the elder Winchester and the demon. 

  He quickly caught up, matching Dean’s speed, then passing him. The demon was still out of reach, though, just a few steps ahead, feet thudding down the sidewalk, headed back towards the way they had come, back towards where the Impala was parked. 

  They were about to round the corner when the demon suddenly stopped. Or rather, was stopped. 

  It crashed into a wall, body shuddering with the impact as it was thrown to the ground. Or rather, that’s what it seemed like. Matt felt his confusion increase - there was no wall ahead? According to his senses, it was just thin air. He felt the air currents, the sounds and vibrations bouncing along the ground and the air - there was nothing. Then what had the demon run into?

  He slowed to a stop in front of the demon, who was rolling on the ground moaning like it had been sucker punched. Content that it wasn’t about to leap up and run again, Matt cautiously stuck a hand out where the demon had collided with a wall.  His fingers met with resistance. A shock ran through him - not electric, though. Something else. He had felt it before, but wasn’t familiar with it yet. Magic. But he couldn’t sense any physical barrier - what was going on?

_   “Oh shit,”  _ Az said suddenly, filling Matt with dread. 

  Dean rounded the corner, laughing under his breath. 

  “Gotcha, sucker,” he mocked the demon under Matt’s feet, who cursed and stood up. Matt immediately pounced, grabbing the demon and twisting them into a submission hold, slamming them back to the ground. 

  “It’s okay, dude. You see that circle? Demons can’t leave it. This guy isn’t going anywhere.”

  Matt’s gut twisted. He cast his senses about, but all he could detect was the faint scent of spray paint. 

  “ _ Devil’s Trap,”  _ Az supplied, and suddenly everything made sense. Flashes of memories and knowledge informed Matt exactly what kind of trap they had blundered into. There wasn’t going to be a way to explain this away. 

  Sam came jogging up, breathing deeply as he stood beside his brother.

  “Well, this came in handy,” he said. Dean laughed.

  “I know. Wrong guy, but this worked out just as well.”

  “Daredevil, man, it’s okay. Come out of there - the demon can’t hurt us over here.”

  Matt was frozen, clutching the demon’s wrists in his own, his knee digging into its back. His throat was tight, his mouth dry.

  “ _ We’re screwed, we’re screwed, we’re screwed. What are we going to do? They’re going to find out. Shit, shit, shit,”  _ Az was panicking, which wasn’t helping Matt stay calm. Somehow he managed to speak.

  “What?”

  Dean walked up and stood a few feet away, then reached out with his foot and scuffed the ground.

  “This baby right here makes that demon powerless. It can’t leave the circle, it can’t use it’s powers, it can’t do anything.”

  “You can let it go, it won’t be able to get away,” Sam said, something a little suspicious creeping into his reassuring tone. The two brothers stood at what Matt assumed was the edge of the circle, waiting for him to step out and join them. 

  Mentally, he mapped out the circle, based on where Dean had toed the edge and where he had felt the magical wall on the opposite side. It was roughly six feet in diameter. And according to Az, there was no escape unless the circle was broken. If there was a sudden rain to wash the paint away, or an earthquake to crack the sidewalk, that would be great. Other than that, Az was right - they were screwed. 

  Stiffly, like a poorly assembled remote control toy, Matt released the demon and stepped back, edging all the way to the back of the circle, away from the Winchesters. 

  “Daredevil?” Sam asked, the suspicious growing stronger in his voice. 

  Matt felt the magical barrier press against his left shoulder, and felt the wind blowing through the barrier effortlessly. 

  The demon on the ground started laughing, cackling like a witch. It was kneeling in roughly the center of the circle, wiping its lip from where Matt had slammed its face into the sidewalk. 

  “Oh, this is rich. We all thought you were just some pompous human. But this is even more pitiful. A demon trying to be a hero.”

  Sam and Dean were quiet. Matt opened his mouth, but couldn’t find any words. 

  “Or...wait…” the demon stood and took a step closer to Matt. He growled and tried to take a fighting stance, but stumbled against the barrier. 

  There was a snapping sound that sounded incredibly loud, but it was just Dean snapping his fingers. 

  “You’re Matt Murdock.”

  “You’re sharing that body with a human? Wow. You really are pitiful,” the demon hissed. Matt and Az both clocked it in the face, knocking it back to the ground.

  Matt’s senses went from the demon on the ground to the two brothers, who were both fingering their weapons tensely. 

  “Is it true?”

  Matt slumped, “Is what true?”

  “What do you think, idiot?” Dean asked.

  “Who are we talking to right now?” Sam asked, his voice calmer than Dean’s, but somehow more frightening. It was cold. Steely.

  “You’re talking to Matt Murdock. It’s still me.”

  “Wait. How does a blind guy become a vigilante superhero?” Dean said.

  “I’m guessing demonic powers had something to do with it,” Sam bit out.

  Matt stiffened, “No, they didn’t. Not until recently.”

  “Yeah, Matt’s been doing this for ages. Way before I came along,” Az said, causing both the Winchesters to stiffen. 

  “Now who are we talking to?” Sam asked, voice more frightening, if that was possible. 

  “Oh, yeah, no. I’m not telling you my name. Matt’s not going to tell you either.”

  “Just listen,” Matt began, but Dean cut him off.

  “We’ll do with you two in a minute. First, let’s talk to this guy.”   
Dean waggled a knife out in front of him, indicating the other demon in the circle. 

  “What were you doing with that kid’s soul?”

  Matt’s brow wrinkled in confusion, but no one could tell under his mask. Not that anyone was paying attention to him at the moment, anyway. He wanted to ask for clarification, but he and Az agreed they needed to keep their heads down at the moment. Instead, they just listened to the brothers interrogate Dubois’ henchdemon. 

  The demon was not very forthcoming. 

  That’s when they broke out the holy water. 

  The first time they splashed the demon, Az and Matt had flinched back in fear. But none of the liquid got on them - Sam and Dean were solely focused on the other demon. It didn’t seem like they cared about Matt or Az at the moment, but that wouldn’t last forever. 

_   “They’re not going to get anything out of this oaf.” _

_   “And when they finish with him, it’ll be our turn,”  _ Matt finished. They needed a way out.

_   “You’re a lawyer, can’t you talk your way out of this?” _

_   “Really, Foggy’s better with words than I am.” _

_   “I can see that,”  _ Az said, “ _ But I’m gonna need you to pull something out of your ass and save our collective ass here.” _

_   “I don’t see you coming up with any ideas,”  _ Matt shot back.

  “ _ I’m powerless!! We need a miracle to get out of here!” _

  Matt paused, catching a beautiful sound in the distance but getting closer. A grin crossed his lips, but he quickly schooled his expression back to neutral. 

  “ _ Well I’ll be damned. Not really,”  _ Az said.

  “ _ Here comes our miracle.”  _

_   “I’m not sure this constitutes as miracle…” _

_   “Trust me. Trust him.” _

  Az huffed, “ _ It’s really our only option right now, anyway.” _

  Matt tried to focus on both the sound of the Winchesters’ fruitless interrogation and the sound of Foggy’s angry muttering as he walked down the sidewalk towards them. 

  “Stupid Murdock, stupid Daredevil, stupid Winchesters! Stupid me for coming down here - what’s a bat going to do against demons? Maybe I should have brought a crucifix...a giant crucifix, that I could hit them over the head with…oh shit.”

  Foggy had reached the corner, frozen by the edge of a building across the street as he faced Matt and took in the scene. Matt kept his arms stiff by his sides, but gave Foggy a short, sharp wave that Matt hoped looked like “Get down before they see you!”

  Apparently Foggy understood frantic Matt sign language, because he dropped so fast Matt thought he had fainted for a moment. But no, he had just crouched down and was quietly cursing to himself. His wooden bat bounced a bit against the sidewalk, but no one but Matt or Az could hear it. 

  “God damn it, Matt! What did you get yourself into!”

  But Foggy didn’t have super hearing, and Az didn’t have telepathic powers, so there was no way they could answer him. 

  “He’s not going to crack,” Dean said, capping the holy water. The demon slumped slightly. It hadn’t screamed the whole time, although there had been lots of cringing and writhing and hissing. Matt really didn’t want to be put in the same situation.

  “Let’s put him out of his misery then.”

  Dean stepped forward into the circle. For a second he paused, but when Matt didn’t make a move, he continued forward and grabbed the demon by the hair.

  “Do it,” the demon gasped, determined to be hard-headed even when in this state. 

  “ _ Shit,”  _ Az said again as Dean held up a knife. But not just a knife - Matt had noticed this knife before. It hummed with magical energy. With danger. 

  “ _ What’s th-”  _ Matt started to ask Az, but before he could finish the thought Dean plunged the knife into the demon’s neck. 

  He heard the squelch and tearing of the knife into the human vessel’s neck, and sensed the magic blade plunging into the undefined demonic form possessing the human. There was the smell of blood, and the smell of fire and lightning. The demon cried out, then the body spasmed and fell to the ground. The demon possessing the body didn’t flee or vanish, it just - faded. Like a fire going cold. 

  So that’s what the knife did. It killed demons. 

  As the dead human body lay on the sidewalk between Matt and Dean, warm blood pooling beneath it, the heartbeat finally stopping, Matt felt a shiver go up his spine. 

  It also killed the human vessel. 

  “That person was innocent,” he growled.

  “You siding with demons now?” Dean waved the knife in Matt’s direction, but he didn’t cower.

  “No. The vessel. You killed a human.”

  “You’re not really in a position to be taking the moral high ground, buddy.”

  “What, because we killed a rapist? Or because I’m possessed?”

  Sam spoke up, “For starters.”   
  “And unless you wanna end up like that guy, you better start talking.”

  “ _ We could use that miracle about now,” _ Az said in Matt’s mind.

 “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know what the hell is going on! We get a call about Matt Murdock, who’s been possessed, and stabbed, and is probably dead. But his friends all say he has some mysterious special power that stops the demon from controlling him. Is that true?”

  Matt nodded, “The man who trained me - taught me how to use my abilities, how to fight - he also taught me how to defend my mind. So when...this happened, they weren’t able to take over and push me out. I could control them.”

  “Them? As in multiple demons?” Dean asked incredulously.

  “No, just the one. They don’t like gendered pronouns, though.”

  The Winchesters spun towards the new voice - Foggy. Standing in the street, shotgun in his hands. Aiming it at the Winchesters.

  “Foggy?” Sam’s voice was confused. 

  Dean just sighed, “What the hell.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but you’d better not hurt Matt, or I’ll lay some hurt into you!”

  “ _ This is the one who’s good with words? No matter your practice is failing.” _

_   “It’s not fail- shut up.” _

  Dean held up his hands, dangling the knife in his fingers. Sam sighed and held his hands up as well.

  “Can someone please just explain what’s going on?”

  “Why did you even call us if you’re just going to shoot us when we do our job?”

  “I called you to save Matt! Not stab him in the neck with some weird magic knife!” Foggy shouted, voice trembling slightly, edging closer to Matt. 

  “Foggy, Matt’s already dead. You know this,” Sam said, voice gentle but his words far from comforting. 

  “He’s not! You were just talking to him!”

  “Your buddy’s possessed. Sorry to break it to ya, but even if he does have superpowers, the fact that he can’t leave this circle proves that he’s still under this demon’s control.”

  Foggy’s eyes darted towards the circle on the ground - Sam and Dean both started forward while he was distracted, but Matt growled and moved between them. Foggy’s eyes snapped back up, and he hefted the gun back up. 

  “Let him out,” Foggy demanded.

  “Foggy, what are you trying to do here? What do you think’s gonna happen if we break the circle?” Sam said. 

  “I think we’re all going to sit down and talk about this like rational adults, instead of running around trying to be mysterious and cool like a bunch of middle schoolers!” Foggy shouted, the tremor completely gone from his voice. Matt knew some of that anger was directed at him, too. 

  “Break the circle and let him out! Then we’ll find a way to heal Matt, and stop this crazy witch, and get things back to normal. Isn’t that your job? To help people with ghosts and shit? Not killing the people who asked for your help!”

  “It’s not that simple…” Sam started.

  “Yes! It is! I will shoot you! I swear to fucking god!”

  Dean had been strangely quiet this entire time. He was still standing in the circle with Matt. The body on the ground had grown cold. 

  Suddenly, the older brother started talking. In Latin. 

  Matt and Az gritted their teeth and crashed to their knees, hands clamping over their ears. They were vaguely aware of Foggy shouting, and Sam shouting, but all they could hear was Dean’s monotone voice reciting the exorcism. They might have been screaming, but neither of them was really sure. 

  Then suddenly there was an explosion. Then another. It rocked the world, sent Matt’s senses scattered to all different corners of his mind. The picture of the world around him shattered, replaced with confusion and disorientation. His head pounded, his ears...heard nothing. He blinked, then lowered his hands. The world slowly came back in bits and pieces - the ground beneath his feet, someone’s leg brushing against his shoulder - Foggy. Liquid against his fingers - blood. He smelled...gunpowder. Shells. Foggy had fired the shotgun. 

  But the only blood was the cold, congealing blood of the person Dean had stabbed. 

  So Foggy hadn’t shot anyone. 

  If only Matt could hear, he could figure out what was happening, but the two shotgun blasts had effectively deafened him. He started to detect a faint ringing in his left ear, but beyond that the world was silent. 

  “ _ Maybe your friend is pretty smart, _ ” Az said in Matt’s mind.

  “ _ What _ ?”

  “ _ If you can’t hear the exorcism, it doesn’t work, _ ” Az answered. Matt let out a breath of relief.

  He was glad Az wasn’t being viciously torn from his body anymore, but being suddenly and violently deafened was still pretty awful. 

  Impulsively, he scrabbled his cowl off, then ripped his gloves away. He needed the full extent of the rest of his senses, he needed to be clear. 

  “Foggy?” he called out quietly, latching on to Foggy’s pant leg and hauling himself up. Foggy was still holding the shotgun, but he crouched a little and stuck his elbow out so Matt could hang on and have a point of reference. 

  “What’s going on?”

  Even if Foggy answered, Matt wouldn’t know. All he could hear was a faint ringing in both his ears now. 

  “ _ Well, this is excruciating.”  _

_   “If we were in danger, Foggy would let us know.” _

_   “How, exactly.” _

_   “Probably by running. Or punching someone.” _

  But Foggy was just standing there. Matt could feel the vibrations through his friends body as he spoke, but he couldn’t decipher any words. Foggy stepped in front Matt, his body stiff, but it was a slow, deliberate movement, not a panicked one. 

  He guessed Foggy and the Winchesters were talking. Maybe even like rational adults. But Matt really had no way of knowing, so he focused on his other senses. 

  By the time he noticed it, it was close. Sulfur. Smoke. The smell of a demon. 

  “There’s a demon nearby,” he said. The vibrations of Foggy’s voice stopped. 

  Foggy took his hand and opened it, palm up, then started tapping in Matt’s hand. Morse code. He had learned it, then made Matt learn it, determined one day they would need a secret code. Turns out Foggy was right.

  W. H. E. R. E.

  Matt scrunched his brow, trying to concentrate, trying to pinpoint the smell, and remember the layout of the buildings around them. It was close, close enough to be watching them, he was sure. 

  He pointed towards the rooftop diagonal from them. 

  “There.”

  Instantly, the smell vanished, only leaving behind the faintest smell of sulfur. Apparently Matt had been right about where it was lurking. But the fact it ran off was disturbing.

  “It’s gone.”

_   “Matt. It saw your face. It probably saw everything. It knows who you are.” _

  Matt clutched Foggy’s elbow harder, and he felt Foggy speak. Then he was tapping Matt again, this time on the back of the hand.

  W.H.A.T.

  “It saw me...it knows who I am.”

  No one responded for a bit - or rather, Matt couldn’t hear them respond. The ringing in his ears was growing louder and more annoying, more painful. He was getting frustrated not being able to tell what was happening around him. He knew the Winchesters were still here, he could smell them, and feel the vibrations of their voices and shuffling feet. They weren’t attacking, but he didn’t know what they were doing.

  “What’s going on?” he repeated, this time a little angrily.

  Foggy was tapping again.

  WE GO BACK TO YOUR PLACE.

  “Why?”

  TALK.

  Matt nodded hesitantly, then tried to face the direction of the Winchesters.

  “Can we trust you? Or are you going to try to attack us?”

  There was a pause, then Foggy tapping.

  W OKAY FOR NOW. TALK.

   Matt nodded. Foggy started to walk, slowly at first to let Matt know they were moving, then faster - they were headed towards the Impala. 

_   “I know they say to keep your enemies close, but...is this such a good idea?” _

_   “I trust Foggy. You can trust him too. He did just save our collective ass.” _

  Az agreed, reluctantly, then let Foggy guide them to the car and got in. The seats vibrated when the engine started up, the smell of gasoline and hot metal once again filling Matt’s nostrils. That, and the scent of Foggy. And the Winchesters. But he focused on Foggy’s scent. 

  They owed him big time. 

  But even with the reassuring scent and solidity of Foggy sitting next to him, a sense of foreboding was creeping up on Matt. He felt like there was something he was overlooking, something he was forgetting, something important. He was still reeling from almost being exorcised, then deafened. His mind was all over the place. But he knew that as soon as he could think straight, he would remember something terrible he should have noticed earlier.

  But for now, he listened to ringing in his ears and tried to hear anything beyond that. There was still nothing. Just a void of sound.

  Foggy tapped his hand.

  U OK

  Matt shook his head, then rubbed his face with his hands. Foggy laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, and just for now Matt let himself think everything might be alright. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A demon-possessed vigilante, a lawyer, and two hunters walk into a ruined apartment...there isn't really a punchline. Also, Claire has a nail gun.

  Everything was still ringing.  But underneath the perpetual screaming note blaring in their head, Az was starting to be able to decipher some sound coming from around the room. But it was all muffled and far away, distorted and fuzzy. Matt’s other senses were kicked into overdrive, though. Every smell, every fluctuation in air flow and temperature, every vibration...they could taste every particle floating in the air. Which wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it was informative. 

  Unfortunately, all of this data was fairly unconducive to verbal communication. At most, they could tell who was speaking, but not what they were saying.  Fortunately, Foggy could type pretty fast. They had rigged up a system where Foggy would type what everyone was saying into Matt’s laptop, and Matt would use the braille reader to read it in relatively real time. It was clunky and not the quickest way to talk, but it was the easiest way they could think of to communicate without leaving Matt and Az out of the conversation.  

  Dean and Sam were sat on Matt’s futon, which they had turned around to face his kitchen. Matt and Foggy were parked at his little kitchen table, which had also been moved. Matt had run into at least three pieces of furniture since they got back to his apartment, which Az insisted was not their fault. They had left things a mess, sure, but they hadn’t moved any furniture around. That was all on the Winchesters. Just another reason to be mad at the brothers. 

  Az, and Matt, were mad at the two brothers for a couple of reasons. Attempted murder/exorcism for one. Successful murder of that other demon’s vessel for another. Not to say the brothers weren’t plenty mad at Matt and Az, or Foggy for that matter. Foggy, on the other hand, was just mad at everyone. The first few minutes back home had been a mess - everyone shouting, including Matt.  Az had stayed quiet. 

  Even now that things had calmed down, Az was staying quiet. Other than occasionally pulling Matt from his brooding thoughts and ensuring he stayed focused, Az kept their figurative head down. 

  Matt and Foggy had explained the details of Matt’s possessions and powers to the Winchesters, who had agreed to not exorcise and/or kill Azirale, at least until they found a way to save Matt. Az didn’t like the sound of that, but they didn’t say anything. They were in a precarious situation, surrounded by enemies. And now they were trying to outline a plan to uncover Evangeline Bouvois’ true motives and stop her slow, ominous take-over of Hell’s Kitchen. Heading into a more precarious situation and surrounding themself with more enemies.

  Az was continuously fighting down the urge to run away. To teleport out of here. They told themself they would leave once Matt’s hearing returned fully, but even as sounds became clearer and clearer Az didn’t make a move to leave. And Az knew why, deep down. But right now the clear and present threat of the Winchesters, the impending threat of a Witch and her demon army, and the general sense of doom looming over them, was pretty distracting. Distracting enough to keep Az from admitting they were actually loving this. Part of this. The part where Az wasn’t a villain, where someone needed them. Wanted them. Where Foggy had saved them, and was now keeping a comforting hand on their elbow. The obvious comfort Matt felt from that simple touch. And deeper down, Az knew none of that love and righteousness was for them. But they still reveled in it. And they still stayed in the apartment, not running away. 

  “ _ You’re awfully quiet for once _ ,” Matt said in their head. 

_   “You’re no chatty Cathy either, bud,” _ Az snapped back. They were both tired. Being exorcised did that to you. They also both knew the exorcism wasn’t what was bothering them. 

  “ _ Something’s wrong,” _ Matt said. Az didn’t respond. There were a lot of things wrong, but Matt wasn’t talking about any of them. He was talking about that niggling fear that they had missed something. That feeling you’ve forgotten something important, even when you’ve checked and double checked again. 

  “ _ That demon saw my face, it knows who Daredevil is.” _

_   “Why does Evangeline care about you anyway?”  _ Az couldn’t figure it out. Sure, Daredevil’s business was stopping crime, and Evangeline’s was perpetuating it. But had Matt really been that much a hindrance to her plans? 

_   “You think she’ll send someone here?”  _ Matt asked.

_   “I don’t know, but she definitely has the resources to figure out where you live.” _

_   “Do you sense any demons nearby?” _

  Az didn’t. There was no smell of sulfur, no chilling, ominous aura, no tingling magic floating through the air. 

  “ _ She...she wouldn’t go after Karen, would she?” _

  A witch determined to do evil, who had it out for Daredevil? Yes, she would definitely use his coworker to get to him. 

  Az reached out and grabbed Foggy’s arm, squeezing a little too tight.

  “Karen,” Matt hissed. Az could feel Foggy’s heartbeat speed up, the blood pumping in the flesh beneath their hand. Vaguely, they heard Foggy speak, but Matt shook his head - they still couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. That damn ringing was really throwing them off. 

  Underneath their fingers, the braille reader moved as Foggy typed.

  “What about Karen?”

  “She could be in danger, if Evangeline makes a move against Daredevil.”

  Foggy was typing again.

  “D - Why does E care about DD?”

  That was from Dean.

  “I don’t know, damn it, but she cared enough to send all those attack dogs after him!” Azirale finally spoke up, snapping at the brother with the demon-killing knife, of all things. They didn’t know what had gotten into them. 

  “Th....right...we sh...Fog…” they could make out a few words - it sounded like Sam was talking. Sound was starting to come back, filtering in through layers of static and ringing, some sounds flaring up loud and deafening before sliding back into near silence. They still couldn’t hear anyone’s voice, but their heartbeats suddenly seemed very loud, like they were shaking the room. A truck drove past outside the apartment, and everything else faded out for a bit and all they knew was shaking metal and vibrations, burning diesel, hot, scraping gears, and the taste of smoke and rubber. Then their senses snapped back into place, and they could place the truck as being outside the apartment on the street, not driving through the flat. Az almost preferred remaining deaf if this was what regaining their hearing was going to be like. 

  Under their fingers, Foggy had typed a new message.

  “F- I’m calling Karen.”

  Someone was talking, but no one was typing it out. Matt’s hand wandered up Foggy’s arm, his fingers coming to rest on the other man’s wrist, which was bent with his hand next to his ear. On the phone, with Karen. He didn’t seem panicked, so they guessed the secretary was alright.  Despite the reassurance Karen was safe for the moment, Az still felt a sense of foreboding. They knew Matt felt it too. 

  They were distracted from this ominous feeling by a sudden earthquake. Or, not an earthquake, since no one else seemed to be reacting. But something was thundering - the floor was shaking. The persistent, repetitive buzzing wormed its way into their head. Az was still puzzling over what could be causing it when Matt figured it out. A phone was vibrating. Matt’s burner phone. 

  “My phone - someone, where’s my phone?” Matt shouted, jumping to his feet. 

  Only one person would be calling his burner - Claire.

  Someone was talking, there was a hand on their shoulder, but it wasn’t Foggy. 

  “Cell phone...here…” it was Sam again, pressing something into Matt’s hand. His iphone. Azirale acted on Matt’s frustration and threw the phone across the room, causing Sam’s hand to jerk away.

  “No, the burner phone! With the suit!” Az exclaimed, hands searching for the now familiar fabric. 

  “Claire’s calling,” Matt followed, sounding much more calm and cooperative. 

_   “Stop freaking out,”  _ Matt chastised.

  “ _ You’re the one freaking out, it’s rubbing off on me.” _

  Az was still searching for the suit - they had taken it off and dropped it beside their chair when they changed into more casual clothes, but it was gone now. Someone must have moved it. 

  “Claire? Hello?” Sam was talking again. It was muffled and quiet, but they could understand him. Apparently he had found the suit, and the phone.

  “Matt...you hear me?” Foggy was suddenly very close, brushing his hand against Matt’s arm to let him know where he was. Matt nodded, thankful for the physical anchor when the room felt like it was spinning around them. Or maybe that was just Az. 

  “Kind of, it’s still ringing,” he answered.

  “Karen’s fine. She...mad at me...calling so late.”

  “She’s fine now, but for how long?” Az growled.

  Foggy was very still for a moment, then spoke.

  “Who…-king...Az -- you…” his voice was very soft, and they could barely pick up any vibrations - he must be whispering.

  “What?”

  “Nevermind, forget it,” Foggy said at a normal volume, but they had been prepared for a whisper this time. It sounded like Foggy was shouting. They winced, which Foggy seemed to think was because of his words. 

  “It's just g...hard to…tell..talk...” He was speaking softly again, and Matt shook his head. 

  “I can't hear you, Fog.” 

  Az couldn't hear Foggy either, but they thought they knew what he was saying. It was getting hard to tell who was talking - Matt or Az. Sometimes Az wasn't even sure. After Matt took down that iron-clad mental wall, it had gone from one extreme to the other. Back then Az hadn't been able to get one thing from Matt. No stray thought, no hint of emotion. Now Az heard every thought in Matt’s head, even subconsciously. Every idea, every reaction, every wandering daydream. And they  _ felt _ everything, too. That was the addicting part. Az was starting to feel like a leech, just sitting by and getting fat off human emotions. That wasn't how a demon was supposed to act. But this was so much fun. And nice. And comfortable, and thrilling, and fulfilling, and...it made Az feel good. Not pleased, or satiated, or pleasured….it made them feel  _ good _ . It made them feel…righteous. Noble. Heroic. Which was  _ definitely  _ not how a demon was supposed to act. 

  Az wasn't sure they could act like a demon anymore. Which was what scared them most about the Winchesters - if they were exorcised, they wouldn't have a choice except to go back to being that way. They weren't even sure they would have the capacity to feel these things without Matt as their vessel. They hadn't felt this way in centuries, after all.

  Their train of thought was broken by Sam’s voice, suddenly loud and urgent, matching his quickening heartbeat. 

  “We need to go, Claire’s in trouble.” 

  “What’s going on?” Matt asked. 

  They could now hear everyone in the room, but their ears were still ringing and their hearing was still muffled, even for a person without enhanced senses. 

  “She said a demon came after her. She fended it off with salt and a crowbar, but she needs help.” 

  “I’ll go,” Matt quickly volunteered. 

  “ _ You sure that's a good idea? We’re not exactly 100% right now.”  _

_   “ _ Claire needs us, and I'm the only one that knows where she lives,” Matt answered aloud. 

  “Alright, well I'm coming too,” Foggy said. 

  “No. You go check on Karen,” Matt cut Foggy off. 

  “I just called her, she’s fine!” 

  Finally, Dean spoke up, “Devil Boy’s right. She may have sounded okay over the phone, but we should still check on her. Put down some protective sigils and salt if we can.” 

  “Alright. I'll take Matt in the Impala. You take Foggy and catch a cab.” 

  “Wait! Why the hell do you think you’re taking baby?” 

  “Because it's faster,” Sam answered, moving towards the door. Az could feel his footsteps as he walked away. 

  “Then I’ll take Red Wonder and the Impala and go rescue the nurse!” 

  “Nuh-uh! I don't trust you not to kill him!” Foggy exclaimed. 

  Dean’s voice sounded like an offended kindergartener’s “You don't trust me but you’re fine with him?” 

  “I'm not fine with it, but honestly, yeah I trust him over you if I had to choose.” 

  “Exactly. Can we go now?” Sam said. 

  “If you don't make up your mind, we’re just going to leave without you,” Az said, tapping their fingers impatiently on their thigh and moving towards the door. They knew Matt was anxious to get going too. 

  “We’re going,” Sam said, grabbing Matt’s elbow and dragging them towards the door. Az and Matt both reacted at once, shaking Sam’s hand off. 

  “I can walk by myself,” Matt snapped, brushing past Sam and heading out the door. Az couldn't help but crack a smile at that. 

  They left a grumbling Dean and Foggy behind, hurrying out the door and towards the stairs. Sam was right behind them, his heavy footsteps shaking the floor with every step. Outside, Az and Matt tried to find the Impala on their own, but all the cars seemed the same. When Sam came up behind them, Matt slipped his hand onto the hunter’s arm and followed him to the car. 

  “Where we headed?” Sam asked, starting the engine. 

  Matt gave the address, and they were off.

  Matt’s hearing was slowly, slowly coming back. His version of the world was slowly, slowly being reconstructed around Az, who just sat back and let Matt work. It was fascinating to observe, to experience. It was something else Az loved about being here. 

  The rattle and bump of the road, the roar of the engine and the night wind outside. The night air had a completely different smell than during the day, a different feel. And the Impala itself was a fascinating place to Matt’s senses. The old, sturdy engine grinding and pumping, the weapons and old, leather parchments stashed in the trunk. There was something rattling in the air vents, though Az couldn’t quite tell what it was. 

  Inhabiting any other vessel after this would just be boring. 

  “So I’m guessing Claire is the one who normally patches you up, after your whole vigilante thing,” Sam said suddenly, breaking the quiet, and Matt’s concentration. 

  “Uh, yeah,” he answered.

  “How did all this start?” There was a pause between “all” and “this” where Az could pick up a movement from Sam - they figured he was gesturing towards Matt in general. Which didn’t really help clarify his questions at all.

  “How did Daredevil start?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s a long story. My dad got shot when I was a kid, by a local gangster. And in the orphanage - I told you a little bit about Stick already. He found me, trained me, taught me to fight. And it’s something I never quite let go of, I guess, even when I thought I had. Then later, I just couldn’t take it anymore. Hearing terrible things happening all around me, constantly, and not doing anything,” Matt turned his head towards Sam, “What about you?”

  “Huh?”

  “Hunting. All this.”

  Sam huffed a laugh, “We’re kind of similar there. My mom died when I was a kid. A demon. Then my dad taught Dean and I how to hunt. We were raised in it. I finally got out, or I thought I had. I actually was going to be a lawyer. But then...it’s like you said. It’s hard to let go.”

  Az could tell there was a lot more to the story than that, but didn’t say anything when Matt let it drop. Az really couldn’t care less about these hunters’ sad backstory. They just wanted Sam to go faster so they could get to Claire. Or maybe that was Matt feeling anxious. Or maybe Az just really wanted to meet Claire. She was the only one of Matt’s friends they hadn’t met yet.

  “ _ Man, you really need more friends,”  _ Az observed. 

  Matt made a face, but didn’t respond. 

  “How did Claire know how to fight demons, anyway?” Az wondered aloud.

  Sam answered smoothly, not reacting at all to the fact that Az had just spoken. Maybe Foggy really was the only one who could tell them apart from Matt. Or maybe it was just getting harder to distinguish period.

  “Dean and I explained the basics to her at the hospital, after we lifted the curse from Perez. She seems pretty capable - most people freak out when they encounter a demon. I’m surprised she was able to hold it off.”

  “WAIT!” Az suddenly shouted, and Sam slammed on the brakes.

  “What! What is it?”

  “What are we doing?” Az shouted. They didn’t know why they were speaking out loud instead of just to Matt. They chalked it up to overexcitement. Matt hadn’t been accessing their powers recently, and Az hadn’t gotten used to using their powers in front of the Winchesters. But they didn’t have to worry about blowing Daredevil’s cover anymore. A the car ride was taking forever, and although Claire was certainly capable, Az and Matt were growing more and more anxious by the minute. “We should just teleport!”

  “Wait, Matt! Azirale! Don’t-” Sam started, but his voice cut off as he suddenly vanished. Or rather, Az and Matt were the ones who vanished. 

  They were still in a sitting position when they appeared in the middle of an oddly familiar apartment. Odd to Az, who knew it by heart - the floorplan, the furniture, the smells - although they had never been there personally. They promptly fell on their ass - so much for a grand appearance. 

  It was hard to get a complete idea of the current scene with Matt’s clouded hearing, but the basic premise was clear enough. Much of the furniture was overturned or smashed. There were...things, scattered all across the floor. The whole place stank and swirled with the heady feeling of magic and strong stench of demonic power. The sharp, burning smell of salt came from the kitchen, where a familiar heartbeat was racing. 

  “Matt?” 

  That would be Claire.

  There were two other heartbeats - slow, steady, demon possessed.

  “Matt! Look out!”

  They immediately jumped to their feet, sweeping their legs out and tripping up both of the demons. 

  “ _ Don’t kill them.” _ Matt admonished as they descended on the nearest demon.

  “ _ Yeah, I know. But maiming is cool, right?” _

_   “...Nothing permanent.” _

  Az grinned. Matt had gotten a lot more fun since that fight in the alleyway. 

  The two demons clearly hadn’t been expecting to deal with the Daredevil. Az broke the first demon’s legs, then turned to take care of the other. Then suddenly, they tripped over what, upon impact, felt like a broken chair laying in the floor. The second demon leapt on them, but Matt bucked them off, slamming them against a wall with perhaps a bit too much strength - Az was pretty sure they left a good-sized dent. Matt swept down and ripped off a splintered leg from the chair, and Az caught on to his plan immediately. They spun around and slammed the demon against the wall again, this time driving the wood through their hand and pinning them to the wall. 

  That definitely left more than a dent in Claire’s wall.

  “Can you keep it down?!” Claire hissed from her place in the kitchen. Matt grunted, focused on the fight, but Az laughed. That’s what she was worried about?

  Soon they were focused in on the fight too. Mostly because the demon ripped their hand away from the wall and came at them with new vengeance. 

  “We can’t stop it like a human. We have to incapacitate it,” Az breathed through gritted teeth. 

  “How? I don’t want to harm an innocent person if we can avoid it,” Matt responded, dodging a blow by the demon. There was a lot of noise coming from the kitchen, but it wasn’t another demon. It was Claire, rifling through drawers and a leather bag on the counter. Az didn’t know what she was doing, but the distraction cost them. 

  They didn’t dodge the next blow - the demon tackled them like a quarterback, hugging them under the armpits and wrapping its arms around them as it drove them into the floor. The breath whooshed out of Matt’s lungs - but that didn’t phase them. Technically, Matt didn’t even need to breathe these days. If the demon had hoped that would stun them, it had another think coming. Instead, Az and Matt maneuvered around the demon, grappling and scrabbling until they had it in a headlock, one leg thrown over the demon’s back to keep it from moving.

  “ _ Well now what?” _ Az wondered. 

  The other demon was still laying on the floor, legs broken, but it was starting to crawl towards them.

  Then suddenly Claire was there, a contraption in her hand. It resembled a gun, but something wasn’t quite right…

  She ran up to the crawling demon and pressed the contraption against its calf, then twitched her finger. There was a metal grating sound, a pressurized crunch, and then Az figured out what the contraption was. A nail gun. She fucking nailed the demon to the floor. Az couldn’t help but laugh again - Claire was by far the most interesting of Matt’s friends so far. She ran over and joined them, standing above them while Matt and Az held the other demon in a headlock. 

  “Hold still,” she ordered, then pulled something out of her pocket. She flicked her fingers against it, and it rang out softly - glass. Liquid sloshed about inside - a little bottle? No - it didn’t sound right. She squirted a bit of liquid out of one end - a syringe. 

  She plunged the needle into the demon’s thigh, and administered whatever was inside the syringe. For all of the cool and wondrous things Matt’s super senses let Az experience, having liquid introduced intravenously into the human body was not a pleasant thing to observe. The effects started almost immediately - the demon’s body started shaking, then stiffened up, then relaxed. It was still cursing as Matt and Az stood, dropping the demon like a sack of potatoes as it struggled to move it’s lax muscles.

  “What was that?” Az asked incredulously.

  “Succinylcholine. That won’t last long, though.”

  “Well, why don’t we just nail this one to the floor, too?”

  “I didn’t...I couldn’t think, I just…”

  Her heartbeat started to pick up, and Az realized it had been relatively calm up to this point. Not relaxed, but enough to show she was no stranger to violent conflicts. 

  Matt reached out, his hands resting on her shoulders, massaging his thumbs gently into her skin.

  “Claire. You did what you had to. Are you okay?”

  She ran a hand through her hair, “Yeah. I will be. Wait…” she tensed up a bit, but didn’t draw away.

  “They said...you had been possessed. Is that true?”

  Matt winced, and Claire waited, wary. 

  “Yeah, it’s true.”

  “But you got it taken care of?”

  “Not quite.”

  Now she took a step back, “You’re still possessed?” 

  Her voice wasn’t angry, or scared - just incredulous.

  “I have it under control.”

  She barked a laugh, “Of course you do. You’re Matt Murdock. So what does that even mean? Are you just...sharing?”

  Matt didn’t respond. Az wanted to respond with a snarky comment, but Matt was putting a lot of willpower into keeping Az silent. Great, this again. All that progress, and now Az was being shut up and shoved around again as soon as they met a new girl. 

  “ _ Just give her a moment. Give me a moment. Please, Az.” _ Matt said.

  Okay, maybe things were better now.

  “Oh, okay, so you’re sharing bodies with a demon now. That’s great.”

  “Claire…”

  “Let me see.”

  Az was confused, but Matt understood instantly. He started unzipping his hoodie and stripping off his t-shirt. Their chest was still wrapped in bandages, mostly to keep more blood and goop from spilling out - and anything else from falling out, either. Claire came up and starting unwrapping the bandages. Her fingers shook, but only enough that no one but Matt would have been able to tell.

  “Oh, god,” she murmured when she saw the wound. Matt winced.

  “How bad is it?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Not really. I can’t really...feel a lot. Like this. And I can’t see it, so…”

  “It’s pretty damn bad. And...a demon is keeping you alive?”

  “Yeah. Az.”

  “It has a name?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I...can it hear us?”

  Matt nodded.

  “Can I talk to it?”

  “Are you sure?”

  Claire took Matt’s hand and guided it to her face, then nodded, “I want to know.”

  “ _ Okay, Az. Don’t freak her out.” _

_   “Aye aye, captain,” _ Az tried to be sarcastic, but couldn’t keep the excitement out of their voice.

  “Well hello, finally. I have to say, you’re by far the most interesting of Matt’s friends,” Az greeted cheerfully. They were grinning in a way they knew Matt would never, and hoping it didn’t freak Claire out. 

  “M-Matt?”

  “No, I’m Azirale. You can call me Az.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen gets her first taste of the secret world everyone's been keeping her out of.

  Dean startled as his phone rang, then wrestled it out of his jacket with a couple of grumbling curses. He hated riding in the back of this smelly, cramped taxi cab, he hated how Foggy kept looking at him, and he hated New York traffic. 

  “Sam? You okay?”

  “Yeah, we are now.” By the tone of Sam’s voice, Dean guessed he wasn’t having a great time either. “Matt and Az freakin’ teleported out of the Impala halfway there. By the time I got there they had the demons taken care of. I have them in a devil’s trap now, but Claire is not happy about it.”   
Dean heard Claire shouting something in the background, something about messing up her floors. 

  “She sounds like she’s doing alright to me,” Dean chuckled. Then his voice grew serious, “What about our special patient?”

  Foggy scoffed, but Dean ignored him. 

  “Matt and Az are...fine.”

  Matt’s voice hollered something in the background, but Dean couldn’t make out what it was. Sam sighed, “They don’t like being trapped in the kitchen, but they can’t tell where the circles are, so suck it up!” Sam’s voice moved away for a moment, before coming back in a hushed whisper. “It’s kind of weird, Dean. I mean, I know we’ve worked together with demons before, but this one seems different. I’ve never seen a demon share a body with its host like this.”

  “You know we can hear you!” Matt’s voice came again, grainy but intelligible in the background. Sam sighed again, louder this time. 

  “I forget this guy has super hearing. Have you checked on their friend Karen yet?”

  “Not yet, but I think we’re close?” Dean raised his eyebrows at Foggy, who nodded.

  “She’s the next block.”

  “You need backup?”

  “We’ll see when we get there, I guess. Gotta go,” Dean quickly hung up and jammed the phone back in his pocket as the taxi came to a halt outside a grimy-looking apartment complex. Foggy hopped out, paid the driver, and was jogging to the entrance by the time Dean slammed his door shut. In his defense, he wanted to check his weapons before heading into a potentially dangerous situation, but for a hefty lawyer Foggy sure could move fast. 

  “Wait up, Judge Judy,” Dean called, casting his eyes around the dark streets as he moved towards Foggy. 

  “Well hurry up!” Foggy snapped back, already pulling the door open. The entryway lobby of the apartment was strangely quiet, and extremely empty. All the road noise vanished, the quiet chill wind that had been gently buffeting them outside - all replaced with silence and the far-away hum of some appliance. Yellow headlights slid across the walls the taxi pulled away, and they were alone.

  “Hold up,” Dean caught Foggy by the arm and pressed a knife into his hands. It was the demon-slaying knife, which he normally wouldn’t give up, but he didn’t feel right letting this guy walk in unarmed. And Foggy seemed pretty harmless, Dean didn’t think he was going to steal the knife and run off. Dude didn’t even know how rare the thing was. 

  Foggy did the exact opposite of stealing the knife, actually. He shoved it away, pushing it towards Dean. 

  “I’m not taking that thing. I’m not killing anyone.”

  Dean rolled his eyes, then slung his duffel off his shoulder and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun. 

  “What all do you have - you know, I don’t care. I’m not going to shoot anyone, either.”

  “It’s loaded with salt rounds. It won’t hurt a human, but it will slow down a demon.”

  Foggy gave him a dubious look, and Dean shrugged, “It might burn a little. Trust me, it’s like a bb gun.”

  Foggy still didn’t look happy, but Dean was fed up with it. He shoved the gun into Foggy’s hands.

  “I know you know how to shoot this, and I would feel a lot better if you were armed. Now let’s go - what floor?”

  They loaded onto the rickety elevator and rode up to the fourth floor, then walked down the hall until they reached a nondescript door that looked like all the others.

  “I guess I should have called and let her know we were coming,” Foggy muttered as the two men stood outside her door, staring. They stood for a second longer, then Dean reached out and gave the thin door a few solid knocks.

  Foggy’s expression quickly changed to panicked.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed, quickly trying to hide his gun behind his back. 

  “Letting her know we’re here.”

  Foggy made a face, but instead of chewing Dean out he spoke through the door.

  “Hey, Karen. Uh...it’s Foggy. Can I come in?”

  No answer.

  “Maybe I should call her,” Foggy said, fiddling for his phone.

  Dean leaned over him and knocked again, loudly.

  “C’mon now, don’t keep us waiting.”

  Foggy was staring daggers at him, and a small part of Dean was afraid the lawyer might try to shoot him with the shotgun. But he was saved from a chest full of salt when the door creaked open ever so slightly. The chain was still drawn on the other side. A pale, blonde woman squinted at them through the crack. 

  “Foggy?”

  Foggy smiled brightly, though it dimmed a little into awkwardness when he spoke.

  “Heey, Karen. Sorry to bother you so late.”

  Karen’s eyes darted toward Dean, “Who’s he?”

  “A friend,” Dean answered, giving her his best smile. She squinted harder. 

  “Yeah, more of a business acquaintance. Friend is stretching it,” Foggy retorted.

  Karen’s mask of confusion stayed firmly in place, “Uh...can this wait until morning?”

  “Afraid not. Now, are you-” Dean began, but Foggy physically shoved Dean aside, stepping in front of the door so he was eye to eye with Karen.

  “Please, Karen. This is important. And I don’t really want to explain it all from the hallway.”

  Karen nodded, “Yeah, of course, of course. Come in.”

  The door closed for a moment, followed by the sound of the chain sliding off, then the door opened again, this time wide enough for Dean to see that Karen was wearing a worn but still fluffy white robe and actual slippers. She gestured for them to come inside and flicked the lights on, making her way to the kitchen. Everything seemed to be in order - the apartment was neat and clean, with homey but still stylish decor. There was no signs of a struggle or demonic activity, at least nothing Dean noticed at first glance.

  “You want some coffee? I have a feeling we’re going to need some,” Karen voice trailed from the kitchen, and Foggy nodded wearily as he rubbed a hand down his face.

  “Uh, yes, please. The stronger the better.”

  “And your...friend?”

  Dean followed Foggy towards the kitchen, still keeping an eye out for anything unusual. Foggy had asked Dean to let him do the talking and explaining, but Dean was anxious to get right to the bottom of the situation. Still, everything seemed normal. 

  In the kitchen Karen was at the counter, measuring out coffee into a machine. Foggy was seated at the table, repetively running a hand through his hair. He had somehow managed to stick his gun into the waistband of his pants, but unless Karen was still half-asleep she would notice it in a moment. And based on what he had gathered from Matt and Foggy, it would take a lot of explaining when she noticed the gun. 

  Dean dumped his bag at the entrance to the kitchen and eased himself into the chair, giving Foggy a visual nudge. They needed to get this over with.

  Karen turned to face them as the coffee machine began to gurgle, leaning against the counter.

  “So...do I get a name?”

  Foggy nodded, mostly to himself, “Right. Karen, this is Dean Winchester. Dean - Karen Paige.”

  Dean gave a curt smile which Karen did not return. 

  “So...we just wanted to check on you. Some weird stuff has been going on...lately…” Foggy stuttered to a halt, letting out a deep, anxious breath as his head sank to the table. 

  “Why can’t Matt be here to explain this,” he groaned, voice muffled. 

  The coffeepot let out a small ding, and Karen pulled open a cabinet to retrieve some coffee mugs.

  “Looks like I was right about needing coffee,” she said, back turned. 

  Dean chuckled, ready with a snarky comment, but the words never left his mouth. 

  Suddenly Karen whirled around, chucking a mug at Dean’s head at professional baseball pitcher speeds. Years of training and instincts saved him from taking it to the face; instead he ducked and the mug shattered against the wall. Foggy was sitting straight up in his chair now, eyes wide. 

  “Karen?”

  Dean jumped to his feet, knife already in hand. Karen lunged at him, a kitchen knife in hers. 

  “First day on this mission, and I get to kill Dean Winchester? What an honor,” Karen laughed gleefully, ducking beneath Dean’s swipe and coming up with her own blade, eyes black. Dean was not in a good position to dodge. He was still entangled in the kitchen chair, backed against the wall. 

  Before the knife could reach him, though, there was a loud boom and he felt flecks of something stinging in skin. Karen, however, was on the ground writhing and coughing. Foggy was standing, shotgun in hand, looking like a mixture of terrified and furious. 

  “Good shot,” Dean said, then grabbed Karen by the hair and wrenched her up, pressing the knife to her throat. Instantly Foggy had the gun hefted again, this time aimed at Dean.

  “Don’t you dare fucking hurt her!”

  Karen, or the thing inside Karen, grinned.

  “Yeah, don’t hurt me, Dean,” she whined. 

  “Get my duffel,” Dean ordered. Foggy hesitated, still training his gun on Dean.

  “If you want to help her, get my bag!” Dean shouted. Foggy cursed but scrambled to the kitchen doorway and opened the duffel.

  “What the fuck,” he muttered under his breath upon seeing all the guns and knives. 

  “Get the rope. And the holy water. And the salt. And call Sam.”

 

* * *

  Claire sat on the kitchen counter next to Matt. And Az. 

  He looked the same as ever. Well, almost. His mannerisms were slightly off. Sometimes he would suddenly jerk, or his mouth would move, his expression would change into one Matt would never wear. Instead of his usual angsty head-hanging, he was alert and, well, cheerful.  But of course, none of that was Matt. Or maybe it was? Even after talking to both Matt and Az and getting them to explain everything, she wasn’t sure she quite got it.  Just that Matt was sharing his body, willingly, with a demon.  A demon who was a total dork. 

  She couldn’t even work up the feeling to be scared, not after listening to Az ramble on - sure, they were snarky, and a know-it-all, and yeah they had killed some people. But overwhelmingly, she just got the impression Azirale was a kid in a candy store. When she thought a little deeper about that analogy, it meant Matt’s body was the candy store, and yeah - that was a little disturbing. 

  It all was a little disturbing. But there was nothing they could do about it now. She was much more worried about the wound in Matt’s chest than the demon inhabiting his body. 

  “I still don’t understand how Matt’s alive,” Claire said, again.

  Az sighed. She knew it was Az, because Matt would never purse his lips and dramatically roll his eyes when he sighed. 

  “It’s not medical science, Claire, it’s magic. It doesn’t really make sense. Not to humans, anyway.” Az paused, “And not to me either, really. But I just know I’m keeping Matt alive.”

  Matt spoke, and she knew it was Matt, because Az would never speak in such a calm, resigned voice, and never have such a nuanced smile, “Yes, Az. We are all aware how noble you were to save my life. No one’s trying to exorcise you.”

  Claire scrunched her eyebrows together, “But...you can’t stay like this forever, right?”

  “Hopefully the Winchesters can help us figure that out,” Matt said. 

  Az didn’t say anything. 

  Speaking of Winchesters, Claire worked up the courage to look into her living room again. 

  Sam had spray-painted two satanic-looking circles on her hardwood, something he called a Devil’s Trap. When he first explained it to her, Matt and Az had huffed derisively and gone to hide in the kitchen, far away from the perimeter of the circles.  The two demons that had attacked her were currently gagged and tied to chairs in the middle of each circle. Sam was circling them, eyeing them like a hunter stalking prey. Occasionally he would splash them with holy water, but both of the demons were staunch in their ability to withstand torture and interrogation. 

  “Why can’t we just get rid of them? Send them back to hell or whatever?” Claire called out, but Sam shook his head.

  “We need information about Bouvois. And these guys are going to give it to us.”

  Az scoffed, “Good luck with that. Bouvois’ henchdemons are more stubborn than this guy. They’re not going to crack,” they gestured towards Matt as they spoke.

  “We have to try, unless you have a better idea,” Sam answered back. 

  Az opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Then Matt smiled. Claire watched in fascination as the conflicting personalities and expressions played across the same face. If this demon possession ended up being a long term thing, the two of them needed to learn how to keep a normal face when they were out in public. Claire hoped it didn’t come to that. She had already dealt with enough superpowered weirdos, she wasn’t sure she was ready to add supernatural weirdos to that list. Then she looked at the demons tied up in her living room, the hunter throwing holy water on them, and her possessed friend having a conversation with themselves on her kitchen counter. 

  It seemed like it was too late. Supernatural weirdos were officially a part of her life. 

  Hopefully a small part. 

  “Dean?” Sam had stopped torturing the demons for a moment to answer his phone. His expression did not look happy. 

  She turned to Matt, who was concentrating in Sam’s direction, face drawn into a deep frown.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  Matt jumped to his feet, sliding to the floor with hardly a sound.

  “Karen’s in trouble.”

  “What’s going on?” she repeated, but Matt wasn’t listening to her. He was listening to a voice in his head. He had that dangerous look about him. A Daredevil look.

  Sam was still talking on the phone, crossing the room rapidly and into the kitchen, where he started cramming stuff back into the duffel he had brought along.

  “Someone tell me what’s going on!” Claire exclaimed. 

  “Karen’s been possessed,” Sam said quickly, then went back to his phone conversation, “What about these two? Exorcise them? Do we have time?”

  Matt spoke up, “I’m going.”

  Sam tore his head away from the phone, “Matt, wait!”

  Matt was gone. Sam cursed.

  “Fuck. Dean, Matt and Azirale just teleported away. They might be showing up.”

  Claire groaned. 

  “Why did you give Foggy a gun?”

  Claire groaned again.

  “I don’t know, I’ll ask” Sam turned towards her, “Claire...um, how comfortable are you with...physical interrogation methods?”

  “You mean torture?”

  “...Yeah.”

  Claire paused, recalling that first night she met Matt. Or Mike, as she knew him back then.

  “I’ve helped Matt with it before.”

  “Good. You might be able to help us.”

  She pushed the last air out of her lungs with one last, long groan.

  She really, really hoped the supernatural part of her life was short. Very short. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a mess.

  Matt stood outside Karen’s door, which was shut but not locked. And although the salt line at the door barred him from entering, it didn’t stop his senses from putting together the scene inside.  He was trembling with rage, his fists clenched at his sides.  Inside his head, Az was trying to calm him down, but it didn’t have much effect except to keep Matt standing still, patiently, instead of trying to force his way into the apartment somehow. That may have also been in part due to Az’s shared control of his body. 

  “ _ Should we really have left Claire like that?” _

  Matt gritted his teeth, “ _ She’s safe. Karen’s not.” _

_   “Safe? She’s with a Winchester and two demons.” _

_   “A calm Winchester and two subdued, trapped demons. Karen is with the guy who tried to shoot us and is currently possessed.” _

  He could sense the demon. He could smell it. Make out its form, hulking in her apartment, completely contradictory to everything that was right in Matt’s world. He guessed he shouldn’t be that shocked - the first time he was ever in Karen’s apartment she had been getting attacked by an assassin. Somehow, though, he had come to associate her with safety and normalcy, which was stupid. She was always getting into trouble, always in danger - ever since he had come into her life.  And now he was doing it again. Hurting her. Bringing danger into her home. Into  _ her _ .

  He could hear her voice, but it wasn’t her speaking. Laughing. Taunting Dean as he walked in a circle around her, spraying paint on the floor as he went. 

_   “Look, don’t worry. A quick exorcism, and she’s home free. Although you’ll have a lot of explaining to do afterward.” _

_   “Explaining is the least of my worries right now,”  _ Matt growled inwardly, “ _ We need to get in there.” _

_   “Are you sure? They seem to have things under control.” _

  Matt could sense Dean and Foggy’s frantic heartbeats, smell their sweat, sense Foggy’s trembling muscles and rapid breathing, Dean’s muttered curses. They didn’t seem to have shit under control. 

  “ _ You know what’s not under control? The situation back at Claire’s.” _

_   “We’re staying.”  _ Matt said, then lifted his fist to the door and hammered out a few short, loud knocks. 

  “Foggy, it’s me.”

  “Matt?” Foggy’s voice was slightly strangled, but Matt couldn’t tell with what emotion. 

  Foggy started to stumble to the door, but Dean shouted at him.

  “Do not point that gun away!”

  “But Matt-”

  “Can wait until I finish this damn circle.”

  Foggy was holding a shotgun, and Matt could tell it had been fired. 

  “Foggy is Karen alright?” he tried to keep his voice as soft as possible but still be heard through the door. 

  Foggy answered, his voice thin, “Uh...you mean besides being possessed?”

  “Yeah, that’s what we mean,” Az replied.

  “Is she...hurt?” Matt almost didn’t want to ask.

  “Well...I shot her.”

  “What!? Matt voice quickly decrescendoed from his initial shout in attempt to defer any neighbor's attention. 

  “With salt. It’s not bad. I just...she was going to kill Dean.”

  Matt let out a sigh and rested his head against the door. Just a salt shell. Nothing Claire couldn’t fix with a first aid kit. 

  “What about Claire?” Foggy’s voice came again.

  “Claire’s fine.”

  They were silent for a few minutes, both just breathing and trying to stay calm. It went on long enough Matt decided Az was right. He probably shouldn’t have just vanished on Claire like that.

  “ _ Now you listen.” _

_   “Shut up.” _

_   “I’m just sayin…” _

  Matt ignored Az and fished out his burner, which he was grateful he had remembered to grab. He dialed Claire and waited for her to pick up. It took long enough that he was starting to get nervous, but as soon as she answered he could tell everything was fine by her tone.

  “What the hell was that, Matt? Talk about leaving someone high and dry!”

  “I’m sorry. I just...lost my head.”

  “You have a bad habit of that,” Claire snapped back, but weariness soon leached the fire from her voice, “How’s Karen?”

  “Other than being possessed, fine. A little roughed up.”

  “Other than being possessed, coming from the guy who’s currently possessed.”

  “Yeah, well most demons aren’t like Az.”

_   “I’m glad you recognize my merits.” _

  “What’s your situation,” Matt continued as if Az hadn’t spoke.

  “We’re on our way. Sam exorcised one of the demons - and that is some freaky shit. Be glad you don’t have to watch.”

  “Just one of the demons?”

  “Yeah. The other one is currently locked in the trunk of his car,” she said incredulously.

  Matt smiled slightly, “Hope you don’t get pulled over.”

  Claire huffed a laugh, “Tell me about it. Stay out trouble - we’ll be there soon.”

  Matt nodded, “Yeah, okay.” 

  Inside the apartment he could sense Dean finishing up the circle, then gesturing at Foggy, who was hovering near the door.

  “Okay, okay, you can let your boyfriend in now.”

  Foggy rushed to the door and open it, spreading the salt away with his foot. Matt stepped inside, and Foggy toed the salt line back together after shutting the door. Az flinched when the line was complete again, and Matt couldn’t help but feel a bit claustrophobic as well. But there were more important problems on hand at the moment. 

  “You,” Karen hissed - or rather, the demon possessing her hissed - when Matt stepped into the room. She was tied up with some wet rope in the middle of the circle that Dean had just painted. 

  “What’s the rope?” Matt asked.

  “It’s soaked with holy water? Or salt water? Something that only hurts demons, Karen’s fine,” Foggy explained quickly. Matt frowned. 

  “It’s a bit sad how easy you fell prey to us,  _ Daredevil _ ,” the demon laughed, drawing out his name with a mocking lilt.

  “That’s rich, coming from the demon tied up in a Devil’s Trap,” Dean scoffed, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded in front of him.

  “I am just one of many. You won’t be able to escape us, any of you. The Queen will find you and have her way with you!”

  “Sorry, not interested,” Dean took a few steps towards the demon, then stopped short - Matt guessed that’s where the edge of the circle was. “And by Queen, I’m guessing you mean Evangeline Bouvois? I’m not sure what you think she’s Queen of, really, since I’m pretty sure Crowley is still in charge down below.”

  “Crowley is insufferable, vile, and unfit for authority,” the demon spat. 

  “Can’t disagree with you there,” Dean interjected.

  “He has tamed Hell. Our Queen isn’t interested in his playpen. She is going to start anew.”

  Foggy and Matt were hanging back near the entrance, Foggy’s heart still beating like a war drum next to Matt. Despite the audible tension in Foggy’s body, though, he leaned over and whispered in Matt’s ear. 

  “I always thought it was just a movie trope, but I guess villains really do monologue when they get captured.”

  “I think it’s just a demon thing. Az monologues 24/7 and that’s without being captured” Matt joked back, mostly to play along with Foggy’s attempt at staying calm. It seemed to backfire, though, because Foggy just gulped and started sweating before leaning back away from Matt. 

_   “Guess he still hasn’t warmed up to me,”  _ Az said in Matt’s head. Matt gritted his teeth and walked up next to Dean.

  “What are you doing? Exorcise her and get this over with.”

  Matt thought Dean might be glaring at him based on the way he shouldered up to him and growled almost inaudibly. He didn’t back down, though, just stared in the direction where Dean’s face was.

  “I’m interrogating the demon, asshat.”

  “Your brother has another demon in the trunk of his car for that. Get that thing out of Karen.”

  “First of all, baby is  _ my  _ car,” Dean waved a finger in the air for emphasis. He stalled for a moment, then put his hand down while heat started emanating from his face. Matt had to bite back a smile - people were always awkward with gesturing around blind people. He decided to just let Dean bask in the awkwardness. 

  “Second of all,” Dean blustered on, “We need all the information we can get. This bitch might know something the others don’t. You want to help your city, right? Then let me do my job.”

  Dean reached into his jacket and pulled something out - a small metal flask filled with water. 

  Matt’s hand darted out and grabbed Dean’s wrist, holding it there even when Dean tried to shake loose.

  “You  _ are not _ torturing Karen,” Matt growled, and felt Az bristling up in response. Behind him, Foggy’s heart started hammering louder than ever, but not in fear. It was three against one. 

  Dean wrenched his arm away from Matt, and Matt and Az let him go. 

  “It won’t hurt Karen, you know that. But we need to make this demon talk. And I don’t see anyone else coming up with ideas.”

  Dean’s head swiveled from Matt to Foggy, then he cursed and wiped the back of his hand against his brow.

  “This would be so much easier if Cas were here,” he muttered. Something in his voice trembled when he spoke, and for the first time Matt thought he felt some sort of affinity with the older Winchester. Before he could delve into it, though, the demon in the circle started laughing hysterically. 

_   “This can’t be good _ ,” Az was filled with trepidation and it seeped into Matt, making him suddenly wary. 

  “What are you laughing at, bitch?” Dean shouted violently, head snapping towards the demon. The demon continued to giggle, then took a deep breath and started to speak in a sing-song voice.

  “Oh no, poor Dean Winchester without his angel. Don’t worry, he’s missed you too.”

  Something in the room changed. For a moment Matt thought something imperceptible to him might be happening, like the black smoke demons apparently looked like or some other phenomenon unavailable to his senses. Everyone tensed, and if his enhanced hearing hadn’t ensured him the room was silent, he would have sworn to hear the tension crackling. 

  Then suddenly Dean was surging forward, into the circle, and grabbing Karen by the shirt collar and wrenching her up to eye level.

  “Where is he! What did you do!” Dean was roaring. Matt tried to rush after him, beat him off Karen, but Az held him back.

  “ _ If we go in the circle, we won’t be able to leave.” _

_   “But-” _

_   “It will only cause more problems! Just listen to me!” _

  Matt stopped fighting Az, but someone else was already entering the circle. Foggy ran past Matt and butted Dean in the ribs with his shotgun, hard. Dean grunted, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge Foggy or the fact he had just been bludgeoned. 

  The demon in Karen was laughing again.

  “Crowley’s hell has Lucifer, so we needed an angel too!”

  Dean’s teeth gritted against each other, incredibly loud, and then he reared back and punched Karen in the face. 

  “Hey!” Foggy shouted, hitting Dean over the shoulders with the butt of his shotgun. Dean dropped Karen to the floor and turned on Foggy, letting another blow loose on Foggy.  Foggy threw up his arms and then tried to tackle Dean, but was thrown off. Dean dropped to the floor, one knee pressing into Karen’s stomach, and tore his flask of holy water out of his jacket. 

  “ _ Matt, don’t!”  _ Az was doing everything in their power to keep Matt from physically entering the circle, even as Foggy moaned and held his head from where he had collided with the wall, and Karen began to scream as Dean started to torture the demon with holy water. 

  “Matt!” Karen’s voice screamed, and it was too much. 

  Matt broke Az’s control and threw himself at Dean, tackling the man and rolling across the floor. Karen sat up and started coughing violently. Dean growled and clawed and fought back with such ferocity even Az’s demon strength couldn’t hold him back.

  “ _ We don’t have demon strength anymore! Not in here!”  _ Az’s voice chimed in, reminding Matt they were stuck in a devil’s trap, again. But at least Dean wasn’t torturing Karen.

  “ _ Not Karen - the demon inside Karen.” _

  “I don’t...care...he went...too far - now help me!” Matt gritted out, grappling with Dean on the floor. Matt had the advantage of technique and training, but against the sudden ferocity that seemed to possess Dean it was just barely holding the other man back from letting that rage out on Karen.  Foggy had risen to his feet, and Matt could smell his blood. He was too distracted to discern exactly where or how Foggy was injured, but he knew it was Dean’s fault.

  “Coming!” Foggy half muttered, half shouted, thinking Matt had been calling out to him for help. 

  Foggy ran over, his footsteps pounding on the thin wooden floors, and pressed the barrel of his shotgun to Dean’s head.

  “Let him go!” Dean froze, then held his hands up. 

  “Now get up!”

  Dean slowly stood to his feet, and Matt scrambled away, crawling over to Karen, who was sitting up and swaying slightly.

  “It’s not your damn friend! It’s a demon!”

  “You just punched our friend in the face! What happened to only hurting the demon?”

  Dean clenched his teeth, “They have Cas.”

  “Who the fuck is Cas?” Foggy shouted. 

  Matt touched the rope that bound Karen, then flinched back. It seemed the rope had been soaked in salt water and sprinkled with holy water. Karen’s nose was broken, Matt could tell, and she had a cut on her, quickly swelling. She had a couple of other injuries, but nothing Claire couldn’t take care of. And she was still possessed.

  Matt turned on his heels and shouted at Dean.

  “Exorcise her! Now!”

  “No!” Az shouted, “I would be exorcised too!”

  “We’ll just -” Matt stopped midsentence. 

  “Yeah - no can do. We’re stuck here now, too. And if we break the circle, this guy could get away, too. See why I didn’t want you in the circle now?” Az explained, standing up and crossing his arms disdainfully.

  “I don’t care. You needed to be stopped,” Matt directed his words at Dean, who was still breathing hard but seemed to be in control now. Or, more in control, at least.

  They all stood in the circle  - Foggy with his gun still trained on Dean, who’s hands were still in the air. No one spoke.  Until, finally, Foggy sighed.

  “Why do I always have to be the voice of reason? Look. We’ll wait for Sam and Claire to get here. They’re on the way, right?”

  Matt nodded, and Dean grunted. 

  “Meanwhile - is there anyway to get Matt and Az out of the circle without letting the one in Karen go?”

  “Let it go,” Matt bit out.

  “To hell with that! It’s not going anywhere until we get answers!” Dean shouted.

  “Stop! We’re just going to wait!” Foggy shouted, then repeated it again, quietly, “We’re just going to wait.”   
  


  The next ten minutes stretched on forever. Dean and Foggy had stepped out of the circle, and Matt was standing against the far edge while the demon in Karen sat where it had fallen in the middle. Dean was sitting in an armchair while Foggy hovered nervously at the edge of the circle near Matt. 

  “So who’s Cas?” Foggy asked again. 

  It took Dean another minute to answer. And when he did, it was short.

  “A friend.”

_   “He’s lying,” _ Az observed, but Matt wasn’t so sure. His heartbeat was elevated, he was sweating - but something wasn’t quite right. 

  “ _ Maybe - he’s definitely not telling the whole truth.” _

  Foggy was unaware of the half-lie, though, and carried on.

  “And he’s...an angel?”

  Dean scoffed, tossing his head, “Yeah.”

  “But-” Foggy faltered.

  “What? Demons can exist, but not angels?”

  “No, just...how could they capture an angel? Aren’t they...all powerful? Holy? How can angels even be on the same level as...as…” he gestured towards Matt and Karen.

  “They’re pretty powerful, but...not all powerful. Not close.”

  “And...what about God? Couldn’t he just...you know...fix this?”

  Dean snorted, “Yeah, right. God checked out. He doesn’t give a shit.”

  Matt slowly became aware of Az prodding. It wasn’t like how it used to be, though, when Az would rifle through his emotions and memories unabashedly, trying to exert their power over him. It wasn’t sneaky, either, it was just...subtle. Careful. Almost...caring. Like when his dad would creep around the living room after getting home late from a fight, trying not to wake Matt from where he had fallen asleep on the couch. Of course, Matt heard him every time, but it made him happy. Especially when his dad would gather him up and carry him to bed, the whole time moving so slowly and carefully, breathing in whispers, trying desperately not to disturb Matt while still trying to do so much for him.

  “ _ What are you doing? _ ” Matt asked, and Az’s faint stirrings stopped.

  “ _ I just...you’re like, super Catholic. Are you going to have another breakdown like before? Cuz this isn’t the best time.” _

  Matt knew he should be reacting to all this. To Dean explaining the divine with such derision and familiarity. To regard the beings Matt had held above all else for so long as “dicks” and God as a selfish, checked-out loser.  But he couldn’t summon up the emotions to react, or maybe he just didn’t care. Maybe he had realized it a few days ago when he and Az had killed someone, and nothing had really changed. When he had been possessed by a demon and realized Az wasn’t really evil. After seeing Hell, and damnation, and all the suffering there and all the suffering here, and everything else, and realizing what people deserved and what they got couldn’t be related. 

_   “No. I’m fine. There are more important things to worry about.” _

_   “Well...okay. Can’t argue there. It’s not like I’m really a huge fan of God after all.” _

  There was a pause, then Az spoke again, this time out loud.

  “So, this is kind of off topic - but isn’t it strange she hasn’t said anything this whole time?” Az said, hiking a thumb towards Karen.

  “Yeah. I don’t like it.” Dean said.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like you beating up my friends,” Foggy retorted.

  “No, he’s right. Something’s wrong,” Matt honed his senses in on Karen, but couldn’t detect anything. She wasn’t speaking under her breath, no inciting spells or calling for help. She wasn’t moving, wasn’t trying to escape. The demon had just gone quiet. 

  But he heard something else - outside, a familiar engine. Familiar voices.

  “Sam and Claire are here,” he announced. 

  “Thank god,” Foggy and Dean said in unison. 

  It was another long minute before Sam and Claire arrived at the door and finally walked inside.

  “Oh my god,” Claire said, surveying the room.

  “Looks like you had some trouble,” Sam observed, but couldn’t do much else because suddenly Dean was out of his seat and inches away from his brother. He was clutching Sam’s arm like it was the only thing anchoring him to earth.

  “Sammy - they have Cas.”

  “What?”

  “The demons - the damn witch! She said they have him. He’s going to be their new hell’s Lucifer or something!”

  “What! That’s insane!”

  “Wait - why is Matt in the circle? Isn’t that a demon trap?” Claire was standing in the middle of the room, presumably taking in the upset furniture, the blood, and the various states of disarray and injury of its occupants. 

  “Well, Dean went psycho on Karen and we had to pull him off her! That’s how this happened, too, by the way,” Foggy pointed his forehead out to Claire, who started giving him a quick examination.

  “She can kiss your boo-boos later, we need to find out what this bitch knows.” Dean was already squaring up on Karen, who sat motionless in the circle still.

  “I don’t know about you guys, but this is making me really uneasy,” Az said, trying to edge further away from Karen, “It’s six against one now, can we come out of the circle?”

  “No! We need her!” Dean growled, but quieted when Sam put a hand on his shoulder. Matt was just glad someone was there to keep Dean in check.

  “But we have the demon in the - I mean, we have options,” Claire stopped herself from giving away the second demon’s location, eyeing Karen, but Dean shook his head.

  “This one knows where Cas is. The other one might not know anything.”

  Claire furrowed her brows, “Who’s Cas?”

  “A friend,” Sam answered, and Matt and Az raised their eyebrows. Sam was telling the truth. “He’s been missing a while. We thought he might be here, since there was a lot of demon activity.”

  “So is Cas another friendly demon?” Claire asked.

  “Uh, no,” Sam huffed a laugh, “He’s an angel.”

  Claire raised a hand in the air, palm towards Sam’s face, “You know what, okay. Whatever. So what do we do now?”   
  Everyone quieted, trying to think. 

  “Foggy, Claire - help me hold Karen down. Dean, you break the circle.” Sam said, breaking the silence. 

  “What!” Dean said, incredulous.

  “You’re right, we need answers. But it’s not safe for Matt and Az to be in the circle with her. Anything could happen, and if we need to exorcise her they need to be able to get out of here. Foggy, you have the shotgun ready. Claire, you have holy water. She makes a move, you both use your weapon.”

  “W-wait. I’m all for getting Matt out of the circle, but is this the best idea? Can’t we, like, make a smaller trap inside this one, and then-”

  “This will work. It will only take a second - Dean will redraw the line as soon as we break it. Az - you be ready to get out as soon as the barrier is down.”

  “Okay,” Az answered, butting Matt’s body against the magic barrier. 

  “But what if she uses telekinesis, like Az?” Foggy asked, even as he lifted his shotgun to his shoulder.

  Sam shook his head, “It’s weak, and tied down. Plus, she didn’t use it earlier on you guys right?”

  Foggy shook his head, “Uh, no.”

  “Usually only higher level demons can use telekinesis and teleportation freely. I think this one’s just a grunt.”

  “That’s a hell of a chance to take,” Dean grunted, but he was obliging to Sam’s plan as well, getting the can of spray paint ready. 

  “This is fucking crazy,” Claire muttered as she took the bottle of holy water Sam handed her. Foggy’s gun drooped slightly, “Wait. Does that mean Az is a high level demon?”

  Sam didn’t answer except to say, “Everyone ready?”

  Foggy was standing at the edge of the circle, gun trained on Karen. Sam and Claire were holding her down, defenses at the ready. Matt and Az stood inside, ready to spring out. Somewhere in the distance, police sirens started wailing through the night, the danger they implied seemingly insignificant compared to the tension in the room. A car drove by outside the apartment, blasting deep bass music. Across the hall, a TV droned on and on, but it was all muffled by the heartbeats in the room around Matt. 

  “Well, fuck this. Here we go,” Dean stated, then crouched down and pulled a knife out. Matt and Az tensed, but he didn’t try to attack. He started to scrape away at the paint. 

  Matt tried to focus his senses to detect the paint, to determine where the line was, if it was broken - he could smell the paint, and he could start to determine temperature fluctuations and airflow patterns differentiating off the different surface.

  “ _ Shut your brain! We need to focus - just listen,”  _ Az snapped Matt out of his hyperfocused state. Instead, they just listened. 

  Scratch, scratch, scratch. 

  Then - “NOW!”

  Matt and Az threw themselves out of the circle, and everyone shouted in alarm. But not at Matt. 

  Dean was spraying the line back in place, Sam was shouting, Foggy was shooting - in the air, at nothing. 

  Is what Matt thought at first, but then he felt it - that cold, dreadful feeling that made his hair stand on end. The smell of death and sulfur. 

_   “Shit, the demon-” _

  But that was all Az could get out because then they were under attack. 

  Fear, and confusion, and anger, but mostly confusion. Their senses were scattered all over the place as the demon pummeled into them, through them, inside them. Matt didn’t understand how this could be happening again. Where was Az?

  He could feel Az for a moment, then they were gone again, then he heard their voice, then it was drowned out again. The room around them had vanished, the others’ voices gone. At first he thought it was because of the second demon trying to possess them - which, again, confused and scared Matt - but through the roiling turmoil Matt suddenly realized the second demon wasn’t blocking Foggy and the others out. It had taken him. 

  He wasn’t in the apartment anymore. Skin feeling like needles and fire, sound deafening, and an overwhelming stench and foulness filling his mouth and nose, Matt somehow still managed to cobble together a map of his sudden surroundings. A large room, filled with demons. Tall ceiling. Vaguely familiar. A warehouse.

  “ _ Matt! What - where…”  _ Az was suddenly with Matt again, then the second demon pushed them apart again. Matt felt like his mind was being split in two. 

  “Well hello, Daredevil. You gave me some trouble, but not nearly as much trouble as I thought you would. Considering who trained you.”

  At first Matt thought the voice was the second demon, but then he realized it was coming from without. A woman’s voice. Calm. Deep. Amused. 

  She wasn’t possessed, but that stinging sense of magic hung around her heavily, exuding from her body. 

  “This is a very interesting vessel, my Queen,” Matt’s mouth opened and the words came out, and it felt wrong. Like someone reaching inside a piano and scraping the strings to make sound instead of playing the keys. 

  The woman with magic laughed, “I would imagine so. Let’s keep it, shall we?”

  “I don’t like it,” the demon spoke from Matt’s mouth again.

  “Oh, no! Mora, dear, I wouldn’t make you keep that flesh. Come on out.”

  Then the demon, Mora, left. Matt felt like he had just been resuscitated from drowning. Before he could recover and come to grips with what was happening, Az was there.

_   “Matt! Move! We have to get out of here! It’s Evangeline!” _

_   “Wha...how…” _

_   “It doesn’t fucking matter! Please, run!”  _ Az was pleading. Crying. Tears were coming from Matt’s eyes. 

  “Oh, neither of you are going anywhere. Well, Matt is. But not where you think,” the woman, Evangeline said. She touched Matt’s chest. Then her hand went inside his chest. 

  He opened his mouth to scream, but it didn’t hurt. Suddenly he couldn’t feel anything. He was still there, but everything was gone. It wasn’t that his senses were muted - they were gone. His body was gone. Everything was gone. 

  Except Bouvois. He could  _ feel  _ her. Holding him. Raw. Bare. Scraping at his soul. 

  He could feel Az, too. Az was screaming. Not because they were in pain - out of fear and anger. Matt couldn’t hear Az, but he knew they were nearby, and they were in anguish. 

  The demons were still there, he could feel them, too. Malicious. Hateful. The only things Matt seemed to be able to decipher were emotions. He still couldn’t figure out where he was or what was happening. He wasn’t sure how long he had been here like this. Time had slipped away. He felt heady, floating, but mostly scared. Exposed. 

  Then suddenly it stopped, and he was back. But not quite - something was still off. He didn’t have much time to figure out why his body and mind felt strange, though, because instantly he was in pain. And not punched by criminals or stabbed by criminals or shot by criminals pain. It was all-encompassing, terrifying, horrific, mind-breaking pain.

  The only time he had ever felt something like this before had been on that rooftop when Az gave him the brief glimpse of what hell had been like.

  “Well, look at you! I though you must be pretty dumb to let yourself get possessed by a demon, especially for a member of the Chaste. But hey, already proving me wrong.”

  The voice belonged to Evangeline, but Matt couldn’t tell where she was. 

  “I...I’m in hell?” Matt gasped out, throat burning with every word.

  “Yes. We just went over this - don’t make me eat my words so soon, Matt. I want you to prove me wrong! Exceed expectations! And Mora here is just going to help you with that while I attend to some business. Mora, you know what to do.”

  Another voice - the voice of the invading demon - spoke, “Yes, my Queen.”

  “Wait-” Matt started, but it turned into a scream as Mora snapped her fingers, and he felt his entire body start to burn.   
  
  
  



	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Az and Karen make some new friends

  Az didn’t know what happened to Matt, but they were sure it wasn’t good.  Right now they were still reeling from the shock of having Matt forcibly ripped out of their body - Matt’s body. It was just Az now, and it felt  _ wrong _ . Even though they could manage Matt’s extraordinary senses now, it was still more difficult without Matt. A lot more difficult, Az was starting to realize. They could still hear and feel things in the room around them, but it was difficult to create a nice, neat map of their surroundings. Or the actions of the demons - and more importantly, the witch, standing around them.

  “What did you do?”

  “Just got rid of a pest. He’ll make a good subject for experimentation, I think. As will you - what an interesting vessel you’ve found, little demon. What’s your name again?”

  Evangeline Bouvois was leaning over them, her breath sweet, smelling of smoke and wine. Her skin smelled like blood.  Az didn’t answer.  Then Bouvois had her hand around their throat, and even though it was just a physical touch it burned worse than holy water. Damn witches. 

  “Sorry, I didn’t catch that, sweetie,” Bouvois said again, voice smooth as honey.

  “Can’t you just read my mind or something?” Az coughed out, gagging. 

  Bouvois made a disappointed humming sound and released Az, who dropped to the ground, clutching their throat. 

  “Sadly, I’m not entirely all powerful. And it’s not as if you aren’t a formidable force. You’re an old world demon, back when hell was actually something to be terrified of. Am I right?”

  Az stood, “You could say that. But your little henchgirl didn’t seem to have a problem overpowering me.”

  “Mora has a unique talent, but she isn’t all that powerful. Someday she will be, as will all my knights. When we create a true hell here.”

  “True hell?”   
  Bouvois waved a finger in Az’s face, or at least that what they thought she was doing. It was still hard to tell without Matt. 

  “Nuh-uh-uh! Unless you feel like joining my ranks, you don’t get to enjoy our secrets.”

  “Pass, then.”

  “Oh, I do wish you’d reconsider. Because speaking of unique talents, you and this vessel seem to have quite a few! How does a blind man like Matt Murdock become something like the Daredevil? I knew the Chaste were skilled, but turning a blind child into a weapon is a new level of innovation!”

  Az had heard of the Chaste, vaguely. Some demon fighting group - but what ties did Matt have to them? Until Az explained things to him, Matt hadn’t even known demons were walking the earth. Az instantly tried to search Matt’s memories to figure out what Bouvois was talking about, but nothing came. They were alone.  The void where Matt usually was made Az balk for a moment, and apparently Bouvois noticed, and was not impressed.

  “Well, until you change your mind, I have more pressing matters to attend. Lock them up with the other stubborn one.”   
  They heard her feet padding away, and then two strong bodies descended on Az, shoving them to their knees and grappling them by the arms before dragging them off. Az tried to listen, tried to use Matt’s senses to map their path of abduction, but everything was too chaotic. They could hear demons talking throughout the warehouse, hear captive humans screaming and whimpering, hear the moans of some other creatures deep beneath the warehouse, although Az couldn’t pinpoint exactly where all these sounds were coming from. They could smell fire and decay and blood and smoke, taste it, but couldn’t compile all the information into any semblance of order. Mostly they were distracted by their knees knocking against concrete and nails digging into their neck as they were manhandled down what seemed to be narrow corridor after narrow staircase after narrow corridor. Az had no idea where they were, or how it made sense that this existed in some New York warehouse.

  Then suddenly the painful whirlwind, kaleidoscope tour of Bouvois’ headquarters ended as Az was chucked headfirst into a small room. They spun around and tried to charge the demons that had hauled them here, but there was a clank of metal and a barred door was slammed in their face. They wrapped their hands around the cold metal bars and tried to reach out with their senses. A small room, two walls to their back and their left. The front and the right sections were barred off. The demons didn’t even pause to sneer or monologue at Az, they just locked the cell and walked away. 

  But after they left, Az wasn’t alone. 

  From what they could tell, there were four other cells in the cramped space. The room was heavy with magic, and Az knew it would be a mistake to try to teleport out of the cell. But despite the nauseating miasma of wards and spells obstructing their senses, they could make out the form of another being in the cell next to them. Physically, a man. Something about him smelled almost familiar. Parchment, smoke, blood. But Az couldn’t place where they had smelled something similar. They were too distracted about everything that was not physical about the being next door.

  Bouvois had put them in a cell next to an angel.

  Terrifyingly bright and overwhelming, humming with an energy that let Az know they were nothing but paltry smoke. Az gripped the bars tighter, clinging to the physical sensation. If Bouvois or her demons didn’t kill them, the angel would for sure.  But after a moment of fending off existential fear, Az realized two things.  First, the angel didn’t seem aggressive. It seemed tired. Dim. Sad. Bouvois had obviously been torturing it somehow.  Second, Dean had been talking about an angel buddy of his. 

  The enemy of my enemy is my friend. 

  And a friend of yours is a friend of mine. 

  If both of those were true, then maybe Az stood a chance. Not that they would really call Dean Winchester a friend, but they were working together, so that would have to do.

  So, swallowing their growing sense of dread, Az addressed the angel.

  “Uh...are you Cas?”

 

* * *

  Foggy was panicking. He had his fingers in his hair, stalking around the room and occasionally kicking walls or furniture. 

  “What the fuck! What the fuck! The fuck!”

  Sam stood in the middle of the room, rotating to face Foggy, hands hovering placatingly in front of him.

  “Foggy, calm down…”

  “CALM DOWN? My best friend just got kidnapped by an evil demon and you want me to calm down! This is your fault! I thought you guys were experts!”

  “Hey! You were the one that wanted to break the circle.”

  “Because you guys said it would be fine!”

  Sam’s shoulders slumped, “I’m sorry...I don’t know…That wasn’t normal. That demon must have been a lot more powerful than we thought to be able to overpower Azirale like that.”

  "Well GREAT!” Foggy shouted, kicking another wall.

  “Hey!” Suddenly Claire ducked out of the bedroom, glaring at all of them with equal severity, “Keep it down! Shouting and fighting isn’t going to accomplish anything.”

  Foggy ruffled his hair once more and let out a sigh, “You’re right. I’m sorry. How’s Karen?”

  Claire leaned against the doorframe, “Still unconscious, but not due to injury. Is this normal? What is it usually like after an exorcism?”

  “Well, it wasn’t really an exorcism, because the demon left by itself,” Sam said.

  “It’s different. Sometimes they’re lucid right after, sometimes it takes awhile,” Dean added.

  “So we’ll basically have to wait and see,” Claire summarized, and the Winchesters nodded. 

  There was a stretch of near silence. Foggy sat down where he was standing in the middle of the floor with a loud sigh. Sam moved towards Dean, who was sitting in the kitchen doorway and they started conversing in low tones.

Then a low moan came from Karen’s bedroom.  At once, Foggy and Claire ran into the room and gathered at opposite sides of the bed. Karen was stirring, a sheen of sweat on her rumpled brow. Her eyes cracked open, dancing away from Claire and settling on Foggy.

  “Foggy..what…”

  “Karen. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re alright,” Foggy sat on the side of the bed, taking her outstretched hand. She slipped her hand out of his, however, and ran her fingers along the bandage Claire had applied to his head.

  “What happened to you?”

  Foggy laughed, voice cracking a bit, “Trust me, I’m fine. How are  _ you _ feeling?”

  Karen’s hand fell away from Foggy’s forehead and came to rest on her own, “I...don’t know. I’m a little fuzzy.” Her eyes danced back to Claire, “Um - who are you?”

  “I’m Claire. I’m a nurse. There’s been a bit of...an accident. Do you mind if I…” Claire held a small pinlight, and after a moment Karen comprehended, nodding in that stuttering way of hers. 

  “Oh - oh, yeah, sure. I just-” Karen blinked in surprise as Claire flashed the light in her eyes, “What happened? What accident?”

  Foggy and Claire shared a look, and Claire raised her eyebrows in a way that made it very obvious Foggy was going to be doing the explaining.  But before he could speak, a deep voice came from the doorway.

  “We’re headed out,” Dean stood in the door, bag over his shoulder, expression grim. Sam stood behind him, pinching his lips together into a small, thin line.

  “Uh - who are they?”

  “Headed out?” Foggy choked out, voice strangled, “For what, a few drinks? We’re kind of in a crisis here!”

  Claire snapped her penlight off and marched up to Dean, matching glare for glare.

  “Could I speak to you outside?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just grabbed Dean by the sleeve like a child and hustled him into the living room before slamming the door behind her. 

  Karen was sitting up, staring at the now closed door.

  “What happened to my living room?”

  Foggy sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

  “Foggy, what’s going on? What accident?”

  Foggy steeled up. This was no time to chicken out.

  “Karen, what’s the last thing you remember?  Before waking up here?”

  Karen grimaced slightly, eyes roving as she tried to queue up her memory.

  “I was going over some case files, trying to make up for Matt being out…” her eyes widened slightly, “Wait - does this have something to do with Matt’s weirdness lately?”

  Foggy flapped his hand, “We’ll get to that. I promise. I’ll explain everything. But I don’t want to rush you. You need time to...absorb.”

  Karen squinted at him, but continued with her story, “I was sitting in the living room, when I smelled a weird smell. I thought I was burning something, but I don’t remember putting anything in the oven. I got up to check, and then...that’s all I remember.”

  “That’s it? Nothing else?”

  Karen squeezed her eyes shut, then shook her head, “No. I feel like there’s something I’m forgetting. Like I just woke up from a dream - no, a nightmare. I remember feeling scared, but I can’t remember of what.”

  Foggy sighed, “A nightmare - that about sums it up.Well, maybe it’s for the best you don’t remember.”

  “Foggy.”

  “I know. I know. Just give me a minute. I need to figure out where to start.”

  She waited. Foggy still didn’t speak. 

  What was he supposed to say? You were possessed by a demon - but it’s okay, because it let you go and possessed Matt instead - who was already possessed by a demon! And yeah, that teleportation thing you thought you saw in the hallway, that happened - but it was a demon, not superpowers. That said, Matt does have superpowers! Actually, he’s Daredevil! And also there’s an evil witch that’s trying to take over Hell’s Kitchen or something? Foggy was still a little loose on the details of what Evangeline Bouvois was doing here. 

  Instead, he said, “A few years ago if you said aliens were real, people would think you were nuts! But we all saw the wormhole over Stark Tower. And everyone knows Thor, by now, who I’m not sure is an alien or an actual god? And Hulk, who turns into a giant green monster-”

  “Foggy!”

  “How would you feel adding demons to the mix?”

  Karen froze, then raised her eyebrows, “Are you saying...I was possessed? By a demon?”

  Foggy cursed his own ineloquence. What happened to his flawless courtroom bullshitting? 

  “Maybe just a little.”

  “I was just a little possessed?” Karen’s voice was starting to warble. 

  “I mean - not for very long. Sam and Dean-ah, the two guys from earlier - they’re...uh...demon experts, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  Foggy bent over double, hitting his head softly against the edge of the bed, “I’m butchering this. Sorry.”

  Karen was staring straight ahead, “I was possessed by an actual demon?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow.”

  “How you doing?”

  “Well...I guess I’ll just add it to gods, and aliens, and...and everything else.”

  She looked at Foggy, wincing, “Did I...hurt anyone?”

  “No! No, this wasn’t you,” he touched his bandage, “You didn’t hurt anyone. Well, you tried to stab Dean. But I...I, uh, shot you. Hence the, uh, cuts.”

  Karen looked down at her arms, at the multiple little bandages dotting her skin. Her voice was quiet, but it wasn’t shaking anymore. He wondered if she was in shock. 

  “You shot me?”

  “With a salt shotgun. I’m so, so sorry.”

  She tapped a finger on one of the cuts, then winced.

  “Salt?”

  “Deters demons, apparently. And ghosts, which are also real, it seems.”

  “Is this what you and Matt have been up to?”

  “Uh...about that…”

 

 

  “You have to save Matt!”

  Karen stormed into the living room, interrupting the quietly intense argument Claire had been having with the Winchesters. Foggy stumbled in after her, feeling a bit sheepish for not being able to stop the recovering, still-dazed recent possessee from said storming.

  “You said you were leaving - where? Where are you going?”

  She squared up to Dean Winchester, who looked slightly bewildered at the pale, skinny, red-eyed fury a head shorter than him coming at him with such ferocity.  His eyes flickered to Claire, who just raised her eyebrows at Dean with a little smile. They hadn’t even properly met, and the two women were already in cahoots. 

  “We’re going to try and find Bouvois. Starting with that warehouse from the other day,” Sam answered, interrupting Dean and Karen’s stare-off. 

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Uh - no. Not happening,” Dean finally managed.

  “Give me a gun. I can handle myself,” Karen held out her hand, and something in her tone made Foggy regard her in a new light. There was no doubt in her voice - she meant it. She was only recently conscious, even more recently aware of the existence of demons, and she was already ready to shoot one in the face. Foggy wasn’t sure if that meant she was handling it worse or better than he was. 

  “Okay, both of you - slow down,” Claire came between them, pushing them apart with a hand on each of their shoulders. 

  “I understand you deal with demons all the time, but this situation is a bit different, yeah?” Claire demanded, earning a huffed affirmative from Dean. 

  Sam nodded, “Uh, yeah.”

  “And I know you two are used to dealing with Hell’s Kitchen, and all the shady shit that goes down here, and…” Claire raised an eyebrow at Foggy, “What did you tell her?”

  “Everything, briefly.”

  “I know about Matt, and Daredevil, if that’s what you mean,” Karen said, voice thick and croaking slightly, her eyes fixed on the ground. 

  “Alright. So we all have our own area of expertise. But none of that is going to help Matt, or the city, if we don’t work together and come up with a plan. It’s blindly rushing into things that got us into this trouble in the first place.”

  “You can say that again,” Foggy muttered. 

  “Hey! I said we shouldn’t break the circle! It wasn’t-” Dean started shouting, but Sam reined him in with a hand on his shoulder.

  “Dean, Dean. I don’t think that was...he was making a joke.”

  Foggy put his hands in the air in surrender, “Just joking! Sorry. Habit.”

  Claire stared at Foggy, mouth slack, then hung her head, “Oh my god.”

  “Blindly rushing into things...I mean, it was right there. Blindly. Because -”

  “We get it, Foggy,” Karen snapped, no trace of a smile on her face. Dean looked equally as grim, stalking off back into the kitchen muttering under his breath. For a moment Foggy wished he had Matt’s hearing, but then figured he didn’t want to hear what Dean had to say anyway. Sam shrugged apologetically and followed his brother. 

  Claire sighed, resting her hands on her hips, “Off to a great start.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Az tries giving relationship advice, going undercover, and having emotions.

  Az didn’t expect Cas to trust them immediately. In fact, they wouldn’t have been surprised if the angel smited them on the spot. Instead, fortunately, the angel just spoke in a groggy voice. 

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m in a bit of a tight spot. Maybe we can help each other out.”   
  “I’m not interested in helping one of Bouvois’ pawns,” Cas said, accompanied by a slight rustling of cloth. Az was still having trouble picking up on movements without Matt’s expertise.

  “Uh, hello? I got thrown in here by that bitch! So probably not a pawn, huh? Look, I know you don’t know me from Adam, but I know your boyfriend! Dean! Dean Winchester!”

  There was silence, but Az could sense the angel’s focus on them. Boring into them. It was almost like a physical weight against their body. They couldn’t tell if the angel was glaring, or looking confused, or what, so they decided to continue.

  “Look, we were working with Dean and Sam, trying to take down Bouvois -”

  “We?”

  Az paused, fingers trailing to the wound still in Matt’s chest, “Well, the guy who’s body this is. His name’s Matt. Bouvois ripped his soul out...I don’t know where he is now.”

  “You sound...concerned,” Cas said, a definite question in his voice.

  “Maybe because I am? Getting your soul ripped out of your own body can’t be pleasant.”

  “Why do you care? You’re a demon.”

  “And…? Matt’s still my friend.”

  “But you’re possessing his body.”

  “Well, we didn’t start out friends, I guess. But we are now. And for your information, I’m keeping his body alive! But that’s not very helpful unless his soul is here to occupy it.”

  There was another stretch of silence, and Az tried to use the time to hone in their senses. They knew how to do this. It was just harder. Harder...alone. It was harder just being alone. There was no other voice there to bounce ideas off of, to joke with, to help calm down. Az had been on their own for a long time before meeting Matt, but only after Matt was gone did they really register feeling lonely. 

  “You really care about this...Matt?”

  “Is it really that unbelievable for a demon to have a heart?” Az growled, half joking. But not really.

  “No. I’ve worked with demons before. I’ve called one friend…” Cas trailed off. 

  “Then work with me now! I know where Dean and Sam are - they’re looking for you. And they’re trying to stop Bouvois. But you have to help me find Matt first.”

  There was a long pause, then Cas spoke, “I’m not Dean Winchester’s boyfriend.”

  Az frowned, stuttering for a moment before finding a response, “What?”

  “A moment ago, you said Dean was my “boyfriend.” But we’re not,” Cas grumbled, his tone speaking to an angry threat, but his words were just too absurd for Az to take seriously. 

  Az bit back laughter. They could feel heat emanating from Cas’s face. This was a conversation people had with middle schoolers experiencing their first crush, not literal angels.

  “Oh, sorry man. I was just-”   
  “What made you think that? Did Dean…”

  Az had to physically clap a hand over their mouth, and Cas noticed. The heat from his blush increased tenfold.

  “Forget I said anything.”

  “I’m not judging man. I was mostly joking, but it seems like Dean cares about you. A lot,” Az thought back to the rage in Dean’s voice when Mora started talking about Cas. And the flutter in his heartbeat when Dean called Cas a “friend.” So that’s what that had been about. “Uh...I don’t know what’s going on there, but…”

  “If Bouvois took Matt’s soul, she likely cast it down into hell,” Cas blurted, abruptly changing the subject.

  Az froze, all laughter draining from their voice “W-what?”

  “Not the hell you’re familiar with, though. She’s made her own hell, here in this city. A portal to another dimension of her own making.”

  “She made another hell? How is that even possible?”

  “I’m not sure. She’s powerful - powerful enough to bind me.”

  Az frowned, “You’re bound?”

  There was the sound of rattling chains. Az concentrated. They could make out Cas’s vessel, sitting against the wall of the neighboring cell. And something else - cold, emanating magic, dampening the powerful aura Cas emitted.

  “Those chains? How do they work?”

  “They keep me from using my powers.”

  “Can’t you just bug out?”

  “No, the chains-” 

  Az cut Cas off, lifting a hand and concentrating. Someone was coming, their footsteps nearly silent as they walked down the corridor towards the cells. But that nauseating set of smells was unmistakable. 

  “Bouvois,” Az stated flatly. 

  Evangeline Bouvois walked into the narrow passage between the cells, leaning against the bars and laughing lightly as Azirale tried their best to glare in her direction. 

  “Azirale. I see you’ve met Castiel. I’m surprised to see you two getting along so well. But you seem to get along with with all manner of strange sorts - angels, hunters, humans - even sharing your vessel like some sort of goody two shoes child. You’re a very interesting demon.”

  “Thanks,” Az deadpanned.

  “Not to mention you have a very capable vessel with its own set of interesting talents. You could be very useful to us.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Listen to me, Azirale. You may not like me, but you have to admit that I’m powerful. I can give you what you want. What you deserve.” 

  “And what’s that?”

  “A world where you don’t have to live in fear and pain. A place to belong.”

  “You mean Hell 2.0?”

  Evangeline paused, “So you’ve heard. Then you know what I’m trying to do.”

  “Not really. Turn Hell’s Kitchen into a literal hell? Why?”

  “Because Crowley has disgraced Hell! He has made the work of the demons who call it home a laughingstock. I’m just remaking it, as it should be.”

  “But you’re just a human with some fancy powers - why do you care at all?”

  “I’ve spent my life consorting with demons, Azirale. Call me a bleeding heart.”

  Az hummed, “Not to mention, it’s where your soul is heading eventually.”

  “Someday, yes. But not until I’ve made it as it should be.”

  Things were starting to become much clearer. Az was struck with the same sense of irony they felt when they heard about some dude calling himself the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Laughter bubbled out of their mouth until they were bent double, slapping their knee comically until Evangeline struck out against the bars with a clang.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  Az had to struggle to catch their breath. “I just can’t believe...this whole thing...is just because you’re too much of a coward to face the real hell. It’s the most...elaborate...way I’ve heard of avoiding...I mean, props to you for creativity. And dedication!”

  From the neighboring cell, Cas’ voice was quiet, bearing warning, “Azirale…”

  Az wiped their eyes, clearing their throat with a few more harsh laughs, “I mean, you’ve been at this for decades! Maybe centuries! Most people just beg for mercy, or try to avoid the hellhounds. But I don’t blame you - I wouldn’t want to go to hell either.”

  “Then you understand,” Evangeline spoke, her voice tight and tense. She obviously did not enjoy being laughed at.

  “Oh yeah, I understand.”

  “Then you’ll join us?”

  Az stood, making their way across the cell so they were standing face to face with Bouvois, approximately. There was only a breath of space between them - that and the solid metal, enchanted bars. 

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “Besides freedom from Crowley, freedom from never having to be tortured in that pit again, freedom to use your powers and abilities as you want without reprimand? Well, you would get to help me torture an angel, for starters.”

  Behind them, Castiel stiffened. 

  Az put on their most convincing grin, “Well, that’s something I’ve never done before.”

 

 

  Az was flanked by two demons, so close they kept bumping shoulders as they followed Evangeline down the corridor. Az wished they could see what this place looked like, because as far as they could tell Evangeline had just set up a maze of cubical partitions to throw them off. She led their little parade down hallway after hallway - once again, way too many corridors  for an average New York warehouse to have - Evangeline up front, two demons with Az, and two more guiding Cas by his chained hands. 

  “So how did you manage to capture an angel?” Az asked, genuinely curious. And a little frightened to know the answer. 

  “It's not that hard. It's been done before,” Evangeline answered carelessly. She didn't elaborate further. 

  Az cast their sense behind them, trying to take in more details about said angel. Aside from the overwhelming non-physical attributes, Cas seemed like a normal guy. A few inches taller than Matt, pretty fit, leanly muscled. Short hair that hadn’t been washed in a while, caked with blood and sweat. In fact, his entire body was rank with blood and sweat. He was wearing a few layers of clothes based on the constant slide and ruffle of fabric as they walked. 

  “So...uh, before, Mora said this new hell needed a Lucifer. Is that-”

  Evangeline barked out a very terrifying laugh, “Needed a Lucifer! No, that's not what I need Castiel for. I’ll have to talk with her and straighten out a few things. You see, Azirale,” Az hated how she said their name. Like she had stolen it from them. Holding it over them. Taunting them. “A newer, better hell needs newer, better demons. Cas is just one ingredient for that future.”

  Az frowned, noticing the demons walking with them didn't seem perturbed by that statement. 

  “Newer better demons? Are these guys not good enough?”

  “Oh, they are more than enough. I only pick the best of the best to inhabit our new realm. And when I have enough power, I will grant them even more power!”

  One of the demons shoved Az so they stumbled slightly, throwing off the carefully constructed sensory map of their surroundings they had been constructing. Huh. So these saps were just idiots who believes empty drivel like Evangeline’s ramblings. 

  “Be careful, Ronum. Azirale is a guest - for now.”

  Azirale smiled as Ronum - the demon on their left - grumbled but backed off. 

  “So how is an angel going to help with that? I thought grace pretty much only killed us.”

  “It does. But some poisons can act as antidotes. If I can find a way to harness that power for us…” she trailed off, and Az imagined her rubbing her hands together and cackling evilly. “Not to mention, it takes a very hardy vessel to hold an angel. I'm pretty interested in cracking into that body, too!”

  “So what’s my job in all this?”

  “Whatever you want, Azirale. I like you. I want you on my side. This is a show of goodwill. These are the beings that condemn your kind to eternal misery. I'm just offering you a little revenge.”

  Behind them, Cas had been quiet, hanging his head. But now, he raised his face towards Az, supposedly making an earnest expression of some sort. 

  “Azirale, listen…”

  One of the demons beside Cas slammed a fist into his gut, sending Cas doubling over coughing. Az hid their wince, trying to appear unsympathetic. Those enchanted chains seemed to function like a portable devil’s trap for angels. If Az had any hope of getting Castiel’s help, they had to get him out of those chains somehow. 

  “Ah! Here we are!” Evangeline stopped outside a room and flung the door open. They all came to a stop, and Az took advantage of the moment to really concentrate on their senses. 

  The room in front of them seemed to be a medical lab of some sort, complete with bottles of potions and chemicals, medical tools, and an operating table. There were some old, musty books on a desk against the far wall. Whatever liquids were in the bottle were indistinguishable, their scents and tastes muffled by stoppers. The scent of blood on the medical tools, in the sink, on the table, was very pungent, however. The other rooms in the hallway were similar with varying differences. But they all smelled like blood, and worse. Vomit. Feces. Other fluids. Burned flesh. And sulfur. Smoke. Fire. It smelled like…like monsters. The same monsters they had encountered in the first warehouse. 

  “What's wrong?” Evangeline asked. 

  Az smiled, “Nothing. Just wondering how this will work.”

  Evangeline ushered them into the room, then gestured at the demons to follow. Two walked inside with Cas, but Ronum and Az’s other escort stayed outside as guards. At least Az didn’t have to face them all at once. Not that they had any idea how they were going to get themselves, Cas, and Matt out of here, but they would take any advantage. 

  Immediately and with practiced ease, the two demons slammed Cas onto the table, looping the chains through two rings attached to the metal table. Az winced, a hand flinching up towards their ear. The clank of metal against metal was a cacophony to their hearing, ringing in their ears like popping gunshots and canon fire. 

  Evangeline noticed.

  “So how does that work, anyway? Heightened senses?”

  Az hesitated. They didn’t really want to divulge Matt’s secrets to the witch, but they needed her to trust them.

  “I’m still getting the hang of it,” they ended up saying. 

  Evangeline hummed, and Az hoped she was satisfied with that answer. Her heartbeat seemed steady, and she didn’t display any signs of anger. All they could pick up from her was the padding of bare feet as she walked across the room to Castiel’s side. Az wrinkled their nose a bit in disgust. They would not want their naked skin touching the floor of this room.

  She took the ends of Castiel’s chain, which had been wrapped around the table once, and touched the ends together. It took a moment for Az to decipher what had happened, because Evangeline was already talking again. But after a second of concentration, they realized she had somehow magically fused the chain together. 

  “I’ve been trying to create demons of my own, by other means than centuries of torture. Demons with more power than Crowley deems appropriate for his followers. As of yet, my results have been...interesting. But unsatisfactory.”

  So that’s what those monsters from the other warehouse had been, Az guessed. And after hearing Cas mention Bouvois creating her own hell - could that hallway have been a failed experiment as well?

  “And angel juice is going to help with that?”

  “Perhaps. Now, I would warn you to close your eyes, but that won’t really make a difference for you, will it?”

  Evangeline reached forward and rested a hand on Cas’ chest. The two other demons took a step back. 

  “Why? What are you doing?”

  Evangeline didn’t answer, just started mumbling under her breath. Az couldn’t understand whatever language she was speaking, but the words sent chills up their spine. The heady feeling of magic began rolling across the room, giving them a bit of the spins. On the table, Castiel clenched his teeth and began to groan in pain. 

  “Azirale...please…” Cas gritted out, but his words were cut off by his own cry of pain. 

  Energy began spilling from Castiel’s chest, right where Evangeline’s hand lay. Behind them, the two demons flinched and turned their faces away - that must be the light Evangeline had warned of. Az couldn’t see anything, of course, but they could smell the crackling energy in the air, like ozone after a lightning strike. It stung their skin and left a burned taste in their mouth, like they had just licked an active electrical socket. 

  “Shh...almost done,” Evangeline cooed in a soft voice as her hand disappeared into Castiel’s chest. Az had witnessed this before, when she ripped Matt’s soul out of their body. She was doing the same to Castiel now, and Az had to use all their willpower to keep a cool expression. If she decommissioned Cas, Az’s chances of successfully rescuing Matt dramatically decreased. They were powerful, but they weren’t stupid. They needed an ally, and an angel was ideal. 

  Still, this could work. If she was willingly removing Cas from his vessel, Az could use this. But they would have to move fast. 

  “Azirale, dear, could you fetch me one of those jars in the corner there?”

  Az could detect the jars she was referring too. Sound bounced off them like a bass wind, their surface cool and smooth and emanating extremely strong magic. It was the same thing she had been keeping the monster soul in at her other warehouse. They  walked over to the jars, which were sitting against the wall beside the desk of old books. They were extremely careful selecting a jar, picking it up, and walking back to Evangeline. What to do, what to do. They could wait until she stuck Cas in the jar, then snatch the jar and run. Smashing the jar had been enough to let the monster out before - but what if these jars were enchanted against breaking, or something? Az didn’t feel like letting her put their disembodied only hope in some sort of cramped glass prison, but that left them with a very narrow window to act. In fact, only a few seconds, really. 

  So, excuse them if they didn’t come up with the smartest plan in those few seconds. It’s not like they were at their best at the moment. Alone, in enemy territory, without Matt to help out with the planning, and fighting, and shitty superpowers. They were a little stressed. So they did the first thing that came to mind. 

  They hefted the jar above their head and smashed it on Evangeline’s head. 

  Their concern about the jar being unbreakable was disproven, at least, not that it mattered now. The jar shattered across her skull and she let out a cry of surprise - and, yes, pain. She stumbled a bit. Az didn’t know if they had really been that sneaky, or she had just been really busy on extracting Castiel’s soul, but for the next second they had an advantage. The two demons were already bolting forward, but Az was faster. They caught a glass shard that was tumbling through the air, ignoring the way it cut their own palm, and shoved it into Evangeline’s neck. 

  She cried out again, although her voice gargled with blood. They could smell it spilling out of the wound in her neck - but that wouldn’t hold her back for long. Az had no doubt she could heal a wound like that in a jiffy. 

  They could sense Castiel’s exposed soul still, the electric energy and burning sensation still saturating the air. His vessel still lay on the table, empty and still. And very much chained. There was nothing in the room to cut through chains, and definitely not enchanted chains. And definitely not in the limited time they had before they were inundated with enemy demons. Cas would just have to make do without for now.

  “Let’s go, Cassie!” Az shouted, dodging under the clumsy arms of one demon and springing towards the door. 

  Suddenly there was a piercing screech, and everyone in the room crumpled to the floor, hands over their ears. It was worse than the shotgun, worse than the deafness afterwards, worse than the ringing in their ears as sound came back. 

  Az had to take advantage of the moment, though. Powering through the pain, they crawled across the room and clambered over the guard demons outside, who had fallen to their knees in pain, as well. Then, just like that, the noise stopped. Still reeling from whatever invisible force had just dug a knife into their brain, Az stumbled to their feet and away from the recovering demons. 

  “Cas, was that you?” Az breathed, feeling along the wall as they pieced together the space around them.

  There was no answer, and Az didn’t know whether to be grateful or not. If that screeching had been Castiel’s true voice, then maybe it was better if he didn’t speak to Az for a while. But that wouldn’t work for long - they needed to find Cas a vessel. They really needed to get Matt out of here, and then book it themselves. 

  “Hey!” One of the demons had gotten to its feet and spotted Az. More demons were approaching from another hallway, their footsteps growing louder by the moment. Az wanted to press their head to the wall and take a few deep breaths, maybe do some of those meditative yoga poses Matt had done a few days ago. Instead, they started booking it, counting on Cas to be right behind them. The only sign they had of the angel’s presence was that incredible energy burning the air around them.

  “You could hop in any of these guys, Cas,” Az shouted, coming around the corner and facing three demons who all stopped in surprise.

  Somewhere in between the first swing and the first impact, Az remembered angels couldn’t possess humans without permission. Asking permission had seemed ridiculous to Az, and especially so now. But it was pretty clear none of these humans were in any condition to be speaking up for themselves, so they guessed it was a no-go for Cas hopping in a nearby demon. So that meant Az was on his own facing these bastards.

  Matt was the trained fighter, but Az had been fighting for longer. A lot longer. And Matt wasn’t holding them back any longer. It wasn’t nice, it didn’t have that same fluidity and exhilaration as Daredevil’s fights, but it stopped the demons long enough for Az to get away. There was a lot of blunt force trauma, snapping bones, and supernaturally crumpled internal organs and tendons. The human vessels were probably dead, if they were lucky, and they wouldn’t recover completely if they lived, but the demons were stalled. 

  Az ran on. 

  The entire warehouse was on high alert now. Demons were flooding in from all directions. And a few hallways behind them, Evangeline was on the move again. It was a lot for Az to take in. It was too much to concentrate on, especially without Matt. There were flurries of activities in every corner of the warehouse, a sea of movement and noise. Not to mention odd pockets where Az’s senses went all funny. They guessed those were some sort of magical barriers or portals Evangeline had whipped up, that even Matt’s extraordinary senses couldn’t discern.  But they could tell there unpossessed humans somewhere in the warehouse - great for an angel to chat with and steal a decent meatsuit - unfortunately, they all seemed to be locked up in various cages and rooms - terrible for a quick get away. Even worse, the demons were closing in. In a few minutes, they wouldn’t be able to get out at all.

  “Help! Help! What are you doing? Who are you? Let me go! Help!”

  The voice cut through the rest of the panic, along with the racing heartbeat and struggling footsteps. A floor below them. The ground level. A single demon was dragging a woman along a corridor. The woman was scared, struggling, crying - but she wasn’t bound by anything. No magic chains or cages. 

  “That’s our ticket,” Az said, “Or more specifically, your ticket.” 

  They felt a little silly talking to air, but they knew Castiel was still nearby. Now that they had a second to focus, there was a slight bell-like ringing that signified the angel’s disembodied presence. It was a little more accurate than the general sense of dangerous, powerful energy washing over Az. But  they were quickly losing that second of focus, because more demons were coming, from both ends of the hallway. They needed to get downstairs, right now.

  Az tried to teleport, but nothing happened. Just as before, Evangeline had enchanted the warehouse. Unless you had the magic password, teleporting was out. Or unless you were an angel, Az hoped. 

  “Castiel, there’s a girl one floor down. She’s not chained up or anything - I’ll distract these guys, you try to seduce her or whatever you angels do. You’d be a lot more useful if you had a vessel.”

  Then the electricity and the ringing was gone. Az hoped Cas had gone to the girl, and not just bailed out to go find his not-boyfriend.

  “There he is!” a voice cried out, and a flurry of demons careened around the corner towards Az. They turned to run, but a clot of demons had just turned the other corner, blocking off their escape. Sighing, Az dropped into a fighting stance. This was going to be bad. 

  For the next minute and half, all Az knew was the sound of footfall, muscle moving beneath skin, steady hearts, and the heat coming from the flying fists and bodies of the onslaught of demons. Every single one of their senses was keyed into the swirl of bodies around them, trying to predict their movements, to dodge their punches, configure their place around Az. A few times Az felt a magical pull on his body, but they were able to break out of it or retaliate with their own telekinetic attack. Mostly it was just flesh on flesh, though. Skulls cracking, ribs snapping, bones crunching. Organs compressing, squishing, squelching. Blood vessels bursting, skin splitting, more blood spilling out of lips and knuckles and bruises and dripping and flowing. Az was holding their own, but they couldn’t keep it up for much longer. 

_   Damn...damn, damn, damn!  _ Az felt something cool on their cheek, and realized they were crying. 

  This was not how they wanted to go. They were supposed to rescue Matt. They were supposed to prove everyone wrong, show them that they could be good, too. They could be a hero. With every blow that connected with their body - no, Matt’s body - Az felt their frustration and desperation grow. They were fighting just to survive, but they wanted to protect Matt’s body. They had already torn it up enough - they didn’t want to return it in worse shape. 

  How had they ended up here? Trying to teach a lesson to some punk calling himself Daredevil? Well, that hadn’t worked out. Not the way Az had thought, at least. Somehow they had been finagled into actually caring about...about all of it. About Matt. About the city. About Foggy and Karen and the others. About themself. For the first time in centuries, Az actually wanted something. Truly wanted it, not just in some passing fling of interest or temporarily balm for their boredom, but wanted it - needed it, to be happy. 

_   Oh well, it was pretty good while it lasted _ , Az thought as a demon caught them in the back of the head and sent them slamming into the ground, their forehead knocking against the hard ground with a loud thunk. They tried to get their hands under them, but the demons were descending, each blow worse than the last. 

  Then it stopped. Az’s senses were scattered, but they heard the ruffle of feathers, the ringing angelic note, and felt the familiar crackle of energy. The girl from downstairs was standing on top of Az, shielding them from the demons. Inside her, the towering, glorious form of Castiel bared his wings at the demons. 

  “Good timing,” Az said through bloody teeth. 

  The demons were charging again, but Az was getting their second wind. With an angel at their side, this fight would go down differently. And hopefully quicker, because something else was coming. There was a dark presence somewhere in the distance, drawing closer. Az didn’t dare tear their tattered senses away from the surrounding threat, though. 

  Cas put an arm around Az, steadying them. 

  “I’m good, let’s just-”

  There was a rush of wind, and Az felt like their skin was going to sheer off, their senses spinning wildly and nauseously. Then everything was still again, and Az felt cool grass underfoot. Clear air smelling of earth and tree sap wafted past their nose, and the only sound nearby were some birds chirping, leaves rustling, and a person shouting for their dog in the distance. 

  “-get...Matt…”

  Still disbelieving, Az shook their head and tried examining their surroundings again. No blood, no demons, no dark magic, no corridors. Just grass and trees and a few humans. And Castiel.  His new vessel was a woman with thin arms and curly hair who smelled of ink and cats. He was slumping wearily, hands trembling slightly. Az turned their face towards Cas, blinking.

  “Where are we?”

  “Central Park,” Cas answered, his voice somehow still gravelly even in an entirely new vessel.

  “Why...why are we here?”

  “Evangeline and her demons are too powerful. I’m not fully recovered, and I can’t use my full power in this vessel without damaging it.”

  Az felt like a statue, “But...what about Matt?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Then the statue shattered, and Az was fire. They were a volcano erupting.

  Their hands, bloody and stiff, curled around Castiel’s blouse - a thin sheer thing - and shoved him back a few steps.

  “We have to go back! We have to get Matt! What were you thinking?”

  “Azirale, we can’t go back-”

  Az felt wild, like some sort of animal. They couldn’t get their hands to uncurl, and their eyes were wide and bulging. They probably looked rabid. Somehow, they forced themselves to let go Cas and stumble away, feeling numb.

  “Azirale -”

  “He’s in hell! We can’t leave him!”

  “We’ll save Matt. But we can’t go back right now.”

  Somewhere in the back of their mind, Az knew Cas was right. But in the loud, overwhelming part of their mind that was blaring right now, that was all they could think about.

  “He said he would protect me! I was supposed to protect him back!” Az shouted, but their voice went out halfway through their sentence. They clutched their hands in their hair. 

  “Fuck,” they said quietly.

  Castiel had been hovering nearby, hands outstretched but uncertain. Stiff and awkward. A little laugh bubbled out of Az at that - an angel awkwardly trying to comfort a distraught demon in Central Park. How did they end up like this.

  “We need to go. We’re not exactly...inconspicuous,” Cas said. 

  Az remembered they were covered in blood and gore, and figured yeah, most people in Central Park probably were a little disturbed at that sight. But then again, it was New York. Still, if they were going to save Matt, they weren’t going to do it by having a sob fest in some wet grass. 

  “Right. Dean and everyone else was back at Karen’s.”

  A pang of fear shot through Az, and they jumped to their feet, “We have to go there, now! Bouvois knows where they are - we have to make sure they weren’t captured!”

  “Dean and Sam weren’t in the warehouse when we left.”

  “Right, but we need to check. I need to be sure.” Az said, berating themselves for not listening more closely to the captured humans in the warehouse. What if one of them had been Foggy or Claire or Karen? They were making a mess of this.

Cas flew them to a building across from Karen’s apartment, then sagged against a wall while Az observed. No one was in the apartment, but all the hunting equipment and the Impala were gone too. They checked Claire’s, Foggy’s, Matt’s. All empty. 

  “They knew Evangeline was after them. They must be hiding somewhere,” Az said in relief. 

  “Where would they go?” Cas said, voice weary. 

  They were on the top floor of an unfinished office building near the Nelson and Murdock offices. Cas was sitting on the floor, sweating. Az hadn’t known angels could sweat. 

  “I don’t know. But we’ll find them. And then we’ll find a way to save Matt.”

  Cas nodded. Az was getting better at picking up the fine details like that.

  “Thank you, for saving me,” Cas said. His voice was monotone as always, but genuine. Az sat down beside him.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “We will save Matt.” Cas said, suddenly earnest. By his posture, Az could tell he was probably making some intense eye contact. Az waved a hand in front of their face.

  “Just so you know, I - Matt’s blind. So, I can’t see your face at all right now.”

  Cas didn’t react for a moment, then raised two fingers towards their forehead. Az flinched back.

  “Whoa! What are you doing there?”

  “I can heal you.”

  Az scrambled further back, “Wha - you mean, make him - give him his sight back?”

  Cas nodded, then caught himself, “Yes.”

  Az shook his head, “No, no, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean, that’s some serious stuff, and it could fuck with his - other stuff. And just - I’m not Matt. It’s his body. After we rescue him, talk to him about it. But not now.”

  Cas lowered his hand, “Alright.”

  Az relaxed, then trailed their hand to their chest. There was no heartbeat to meet their touch, just cold skin. Dead skin. They could feel the bandage beneath Matt’s shirt, the torn flesh and tissue beneath. 

  “But, if the healing offer is still up, there is something I could use your help with.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy shows off his lawyer skills, and Matt discovers a new ability.

  Foggy didn't speak up in defense for this demon. No one did.  He had been worried that Karen would be affected, but she just stared with a steely expression as the Winchesters tortured the demon, demanding answers. Once again, he wasn't sure if that meant she was handling this worse or better than he was. 

  They had relocated to an abandoned building in an isolated part of town. According to Sam and Dean, all their apartments and places of work were “burned.” They didn’t know where Bouvois was, and even if they did they had no way of knowing what to expect if they got inside. Or any effective way of fighting Bouvois and her demon lackeys. There had been some discussion of holy oil molotov cocktails, and calling another demon named Crowley for help, but in the end they settled on taking the demon out of the Impala’s trunk and torturing it for information. 

  The demon was possessing a bulky looking grunt dude that already looked like he did bad things for a living. Foggy hoped it was true, because he hated the thought of torturing some innocent dude just because he happened to be possessed by a demon.  This demon, like the others they had talked to, was infuriatingly stubborn.

  “We already know Evangeline Bouvois is trying to become Queen of Hell. We know she’s using people to try and create new demons. We know she’s trying to create some kind of new hell,” Sam was saying, pacing around the edge of the circle, talking to the demon sitting in its center.

  “It sounds like you have everything figured out,” the demon said.

  “Pretty much. So playing this loyal dog act out isn’t going to help you or her. Just tell us what we want to know.”

  “Hate to break it you, but the loyalty isn’t an act. So call me a dog, kick me all you want - kill me if you must. But I’m not going to tell you anything,” the demon hissed, then grinned at Sam’s obvious fury. Instead of running into the circle to attack the demon like Foggy was afraid he might, though, Sam just took a deep breath and walked away. 

  The rest of them were sitting in the next room, or what would have been the next room. It looked like construction had halted halfway through about a year ago, and no one had been in here since. There were still piles of lumber, plastic sheeting, and scaffolding sitting around the concrete floors and exposed rafters. The outside walls were solid, though, so they were hidden from sight of any skulking enemies prowling the streets. The Impala was parked in a garage on the first floor, which looked like it had been intended as private parking for the unfinished apartment they were now sitting in. Or maybe it would have been an office building. Foggy hadn’t decided. 

  Either way, there were only a few yards and a curtain of plastic sheeting separating them from the captive demon, but Foggy was grateful for even the smallest distance. He hated looking at it. He hated it looking at him.  Sam walked over to Dean, both of them silhouetted foggily against the plastic, staring at the demon. They spoke so softly Foggy couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their body language said it all. This wasn’t working. 

  “They don’t know what they’re doing,” Karen said. Foggy knew that tone. If Sam and Dean didn’t come up with a plan soon, Karen was going to come up with her own plan. It was the same tone she spoke with back when they were fighting Fisk, and kept running into walls. But Karen hadn’t let that stop her. 

  “They know better than we do. This, all this, this isn’t our world,” Claire said, vaguely gesturing towards the demon and the Winchesters, and maybe the entire world around them. Foggy was beginning to feel like maybe it was their world. Maybe their world had always been strange and frightening and filled with monsters, and they never realized it. Maybe they were the outsiders, an intrusion of normalcy in a world of nightmares. Then he shook his head - what was he talking about? His world had always been weird and scary and filled with monsters, just not always quite so literally. 

  “Let me talk to it,” he said suddenly, getting to his feet. 

  Everyone looked at him in surprise. Sam and Dean stepped out from behind the plastic and looked at him with the same expression as everyone else. 

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea -” Dean began.

  “It’s not like you’re doing any better,” Foggy cut him off.

  “Foggy, are you sure this is a good idea?” Claire asked.

  “I’m a lawyer. I graduated cum laude from Columbia. I own my own firm. If I can’t get this jerk to talk, I’ll turn in my license.”

  Sam and Dean passed a look, then shrugged.

  “Just don’t go in the circle. Don’t even go near the circle, actually.”

  “I got it, I got it,” Foggy said, pushing aside the plastic sheeting and regarding the demon. It looked back, then smiled.

  “Foggy Nelson.”

  “You know my name,” Foggy didn’t show his surprise, or the chill that went up his spine when the demon spoke to him. Behind him, he felt Sam and Dean step up to flank him. He didn’t acknowledge them, but it made him feel better that two beefy, dangerous, supernaturally-experienced hunters had his back. 

  “I know who all of you are. Friends of Murdock.”

  “Is that why you attacked Claire?”

  “She was getting in the way at the hospital. My Queen suspected she knew the Daredevil, but we knew she was working with the Winchesters. That made it necessary to eliminate her.”

  “What happened to loyalty? I thought you weren’t going to talk.”

  “Nothing I’m saying gives you any valuable information. It’s just...small talk.”

  “Alright. We’re just chatting. So what’s your story? How’d you end up here?”

  The demon laughed, “If you’re trying to get my name, it’s not going to work.”

  “No, no. That’s fine. I’m just curious why you’re all so devoted to Evangeline. She’s just a human, right?”

  “She is more than just a human! She is a Queen!”

  “But she’s not a demon.”

  “No, but her power is great. Greater than any of you measly humans!”

  “But not as great as a demon’s power.”

  “We are part of her court. She provides us with power we cannot achieve, and we provide her with our own power. It is...a partnership. You know about such relationships. You’re partners with Murdock.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t go around calling Matt my King and doing what he orders me to. That would be a little kinky.”

  The demon laughed, an angry scoff, “You joke. But you help him carry out his plans and wishes, and protected him from these hunters. You lie to the law for him. You’re his Knight, are you not?”

  Foggy laughed, “Do I look like a Knight? I’ll leave the armor and the fighting to the trained super ninja, thank you.”

  “All of you, part of the Daredevil’s court. But you pledge loyalty to a false king, who could not protect you or his city. Now you are lost, hopeless, without an idea of what is to come.”

  “I wouldn’t say we were hopeless. We have a few tricks up our sleeves.”

  “Nothing that can save you, nor the rest of the city. And now that Evangeline has your friend, our deal is fulfilled. There’s nothing to stop her from taking your city as her own!”

  “There’s still us,” Foggy said, fighting back the wave of apprehension building in his gut. He swallowed hard, but his mouth was dry as a desert. “We can stop her. She’s just one of us measly humans, after all.”

  “How will you stop her, when you won’t even be able to recognize your city, or one another? You have little hope of saving your humanity, let alone your city!”

  The demon was sneering, eyes wide, straining forward against the ropes binding him to a chair Suddenly, it realized it had said too much and snapped backwards, almost toppling the chair.

  “Wow. That was pretty dramatic,” Foggy said, letting out a low whistle and pushing his hair back.

  “Unable to recognize each other or our city, losing our humanity? That’s pretty heavy stuff.”

  “I’ll say,” Dean said, stepping up to stand beside Foggy. “When I heard Bouvois was trying to make hell 2.0, I thought she was planning to take over actual hell. But it sounds like she’s trying to turn the city into a brand new version.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you think you know. There’s no way to stop her, especially now that she has the Daredevil,” the demon growled, but with a little less bravado.

  Foggy frowned, “Yeah, I’ve been wondering about that. Why was Bouvois - or should I say, Evangeline” the demon bristled at the use of the witch’s first name, “so interested in Matt? You seem pretty hung up on him, too.”

  “He was the protector of this city. And now he isn’t.”

  Foggy didn’t stop to think about how much that sentence implied Matt was dead. Instead, he said, “Nooo. You said now that Evangeline has Matt, your deal is fulfilled. That sounds like some sort of shady business transaction. Which means that you and your Queen aren’t working alone. Maybe she isn’t as powerful as you think. Maybe she’s just someone’s underling, just like you’re hers.”

  “I am no one’s underling, and neither is my Queen. We lend power to others and they lend us theirs. That is how those with true power act - they don’t have to scratch and scrape and cling to power like greedy humans.”

  “But she is working with someone else.”

  “No. This is all her doing. Don’t underestimate her, filth.”

  “I’m just saying - partnership implies more than one person. And you said partnership. I heard partnership.”

  “I heard partnership,” Dean agreed.

  “It doesn't matter! When my Queen succeeds in turning your city into the hellgate, I will personally be the one to strip the flesh from your bones! No angel, no hunter, no Chaste, no mere mortal will stop that from happening.” 

  The demon spit, then sat back and grit its teeth while staring each of them down. Foggy knew that look - they weren't getting any more out of this guy right now.  Sam tossed his head over his shoulder, and the three of them retreated back to the other side of the plastic sheet to talk with Claire and Karen. 

  “Nice going, Foggy,” Sam said. 

  “Yeah. Maybe you should have stayed in law school after all, Sammy.” Dean elbowed Sam, who looked flustered. Foggy appreciated the compliment, but he was trying too hard not to shit himself to do anything but stutter and shake. No one seemed to notice except Claire, who gave him a little encouraging smile. 

  “So we know their plan - they want to turn Hell’s Kitchen into literal hell? How is that even possible?” Karen said. 

  “He mentioned a hellgate…” Sam turned to Dean, “Do you remember that hallway, with Dare- with Matt? At the first warehouse?”

  “You mean the hallway of doom? Yeah, what the hell was that?”

  “Bouvois was using that warehouse to do experiments - what if that was another experiment? We fell into a space that shouldn't have been there, like-”

  “Like a pocket dimension!” Dean exclaimed. Claire raised her eyebrows. He shrugged, “What? I like scifi.”

  Sam scoffed, “Yeah, like a pocket dimension. I don't think she’s turning the streets of Hell’s Kitchen into hell, I think she’s using the city as a gridwork to create a portal to her own hell 2.0 dimension.”

  “She’s going to need a lot of magic to do that.”

  “Something she could get by sacrificing human souls.”

  Foggy, Claire, and Karen’s eyes were ping ponging back and forth between Sam and Dean, but they all froze when they heard that. 

  “That’s why she’s been kidnapping people?” Foggy asked, “To power her portal? Like some sort of human battery?”

  “Exactly,” Sam answered.

  “But I thought you said she was promoting crime throughout the city so people would start making deals and selling their souls. Why kidnap someone when you can just buy their soul off them?” Karen asked.

  Sam shook his head, “I don't know. She’s been using people as subjects in other experiments, too. And even buying souls, corrupting the city - it gives her more power. She can buy off authorities. And not that the angels do a great job anyway, but they’re not going to answer prayers for someone who sold their soul. And all of this could be part of her spell.”

  “What I'm getting from this is we really have no clue what she’s doing or how she's doing it,” Claire said. 

  “We know she’s about to turn your city into nightmare, and we have to stop it.”

  “How?” 

  Everyone was silent. 

  Then suddenly, a new voice spoke. 

  “We might be able to help with that.”

  Instantly, Sam and Dean had their guns drawn and trained on the newcomer. Foggy gripped his baseball bat, Claire had a pipe and Karen had a knife. He groaned but tightened his hold - if this was a demon, they were screwed.  The newcomer was standing a few feet away, near an unfinished doorway that had hinges but no door. Her expression was blank, her eyes fixed on Dean. Foggy hardly noticed her, though, because standing behind her was Matt, holding her arm just above the elbow and looking concerned. Or sick. Foggy couldn't tell, but Foggy didn't care. 

  “Matt!” He lowered his bat and took a step forward, but Dean blocked his path. 

  “Who are you?” He asked the the woman. 

  The woman’s expression changed slightly, and she glanced down at her clothes, a hand lightly brushing her shirt. Then she went back to staring at Dean. 

  “Dean, I-” 

  Sam’s brow was furrowed, “Cas?”

  The woman nodded, “I had to obtain a new vessel. My other was - detained.”

  Dean lowered his gun, eyes hopeful. “How do we know it's really you?”

  “I can’t use the full extent of my powers in this vessel. This is just...a temporary arrangement.” Cas said stiffly, shuffling his feet. Matt poked his head around the woman’s shoulder.

  “If my word means anything, it really is Castiel. He helped me escape,” Matt said. 

  Foggy paused. Something wasn't right. 

  “Matt?” 

  Matt’s expression twisted, looking sorrowful and guilty. It was a normal expression for Matt to be wearing, but he never quite so plainly showed his feelings. 

  “You said ‘me,’ not ‘us.” Foggy said. 

  The woman - Castiel - looked slightly uneasy as well. She stepped forwards. 

  “Azirale helped me escape. We couldn't save Matt.” 

  Matt - no, Azirale - turned their face downwards. 

  “Test me, Dean. Sam. If you really must,” Cas said, holding his arm out. 

  Sam lowered his gun, but didn't put it away. 

  “How did you find us? We put up wards.”

  “It was difficult. We checked several locations before Azirale heard you talking. Then we followed the sound of your voices.”

  Sam seemed skeptical, but something in Cas’ voice must have convinced him, because he started putting his gun away inside his jacket. Then suddenly, his hand flew out again, this time holding a small silver flask. Water spilled out, splashing onto both the woman and Az. 

  “Fucking hell,” Az bit out, dancing away and biting their lip to hold in a shriek. The woman didn't budge. Just stood there looking unimpressed. Dean reached out and moved Sam’s hand down.

  “That’s enough, Sam.” Then he turned to Cas. They stared at each other for a moment. Az and Sam let out an exasperated sigh at the same time, then looked at each other in surprise. 

  “Dean-” Cas began, but Dean moved forward and closed the space between them, drawing the angel into a hug, thumping him hard on the back. 

  “Good to see you, man.”

  “Wait - that’s it? We trust her?” Karen said, incredulous. She was still holding her knife in front of her defensively. 

  “I trust him,” Dean said, then turned to glare at Az, “Now them I'm not so sure about.”

  “You can say that again,” Foggy growled, advancing on Az. 

  “What the hell happened? Where’s Matt?” 

  “Foggy, I'm sorry,” Az began, holding their hands up. 

  “I don't care if you’re sorry! What happened?” 

  “That demon - Mora - she has some special power. She overpowered me and teleported us back to Evangeline’s headquarters. And then...Evangeline, she, she ripped Matt’s soul out.”

  “She what?” Karen rasped. 

  “There was nothing I could do! I tried! But she took Matt and threw me in some sort of prison, and that’s where I met Cas.”

  Foggy reached forward, grabbing Az by their shirt, his knuckles white. 

  “And you left him there? Did you do this just so you could steal his body?”

  “No!” Az shouted, “I swear! God, you know I wouldn't do that!”

  “How am I supposed to know that? You’re a demon! You possessed my best friend! If you hadn't been here, none of this would have happened! This is on you! So stop acting like we’re buddy buddy or best friends or whatever you think is happening here. The only reason you’re still around is because you’re keeping Matt’s body alive.”

  Foggy shoved Az back, though they only took a slight backwards step, and stomped away. He stormed over to a wall and thunked his head against the plaster. A comforting hand found his shoulder.

  “Foggy…” Claire began. 

  He sighed, then turned around a took a seat on some piled up lumber, rubbing his eyes before re-entering the scene, looking at the people around him. 

  Sam was talking to Cas, “Is that true?”

  “Some demons came and threw Az into the cell next to me. Matt wasn't there, but - Az did seem truly regretful about it. Evangeline tried to turn them against me, against all of you, but they defied her and helped me escape. They had every intention of rescuing Matt as well, but...I made the call. I took us out without going after Matt. It was too dangerous.”

  “Wait. So you know where Matt is?” Claire asked, waving her hand in the air as if physically cutting through whatever anyone was going to say next.  

  Cas nodded, “Evangeline has created a new hell. That’s where Matt is.”

 

* * *

  Matt wasn’t in hell. 

  That’s pretty much all he knew, and all he needed or wanted to know at the moment. As long as it wasn’t there. As long as he wasn’t being flayed, or burned, or flailed, or gouged, or stabbed. As long as he couldn’t smell the blood and fear and fluids, as long as he couldn’t hear the screams and the laughter and the sobs…

  Actually, he couldn’t hear much of anything at the moment. 

  He tried to concentrate on his senses, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t extend them further than his immediate surroundings. He could hear his breathing, and some people murmuring softly nearby. He could smell blood, sulfur, and a general harsh chemical smell that he couldn’t identify. He frowned - since when could he not isolate scents? Or hear people in the same room as him? 

_   Az? _ He tried calling out mentally for the demon, but Az didn’t answer. He didn’t expect them to. Even without talking to himself, he could just tell he was alone in this body. Which - he had a body. He must be back on earth. Slowly, he began mapping his surroundings with what little input he had to work with. Something wasn’t right. He felt muffled, dulled. Every instinct was telling him to spring up and run away, but he didn’t want to alert whoever was in the room with him that he was awake. Plus, he seemed to be strapped to some sort of examination table.  Once again, he strained his hearing, but all he could determine is that two people were standing a short distance away to his left. Then he heard another sound - footsteps. 

  “Okay, wake him up. We need him to talk,” a familiar voice said, and he jolted. Evangeline Bouvois. How had he not heard how close she was? He must be drugged, or maybe he was concussed. Or maybe it was just the shock of having his soul yanked out and tortured. He quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He couldn’t think about that right now. He couldn’t let the memories creep in - he needed to focus. 

  “Oh, I see he’s already awake.”

  He was then greeted by a slap to the face.   His head jolted sideways, his muscles tensed though he couldn’t act on his defensive instincts due to being strapped down. And his eyes opened. 

  And he saw. 

  He immediately snapped his eyes shut, and Evangeline laughed.

  “Oh, yeah. That might take some getting used to. But I don’t have time.”

  Her fingers, which were cold, closed around his face, her fingers squeezing his cheeks, turning his face towards hers. When her fingers brushed his skin, dug into his jaw, it didn’t feel right. His face didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like...like his face.

  “What did you do to me?” he demanded, and then snapped his mouth shut. That wasn’t his voice.

  “I stuck you in a spare vessel we had lying around. A vessel I really want to experiment on, but your friends have made me change my plans.”

  Matt took deep breaths, tried to slow his heart rate. And yeah - he had a heart beat again. He could feel it racing in his chest.  Tentatively, he opened his eyes again. 

  Colors. Light. Images. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut again, but he forced himself to look. To see. It was hard - he was out of practice. He hadn’t used vision for 22 years. Whatever vessel Bouvois had slammed his soul into was obviously sighted, or at least the brain and eyes seemed to know how to work at the basic hardwiring level. But Matt wasn’t having an incredible amount of luck deciphering the scene around him. 

  A woman was standing above him, quite close - he could smell her breath, and her hand was squeezing his face. There were two others, smaller, standing to his left. No, not smaller - further away. He wasn’t quite sure how far away. 

  “Matt, focus. If you’re distracted, I’ll gladly pluck those eyes out of your skull.”

  Matt returned his eyes to the woman standing above him. He tried to take in her appearance, but it was beginning to give him a headache. She had a face, and a body, and was wearing a long, colored dress. Her hair was long, too, but he couldn’t figure out what color or texture. Ah - brown. But darker than his dad’s had been. 

  “What do you want?” he asked. 

  “Your little demon friend ran off with your body, and they took my angel with them. I want you to tell me where they’ve gone.” 

  He didn’t have to try to decipher her facial expression to understand what she was feeling. Angry. And he had no doubt she was willing to take it all out on Matt if he didn’t cooperate. 

  “Or what?”

  “Or else I throw you back in hell.”

  Matt shuddered. He wanted to avoid that at all costs.

  “And if I tell you?”

  “Then we’ll talk. Maybe sort out a deal.”

  “That doesn’t sound like too great a deal to me.”

  She bared her teeth, her eyebrows tilting down and her nostrils flaring.

  “It’s either that, or back to hell.”

  Matt took a deep breath, then closed his eyes. 

  “Okay. I’ll tell you.” 

  He moved his eyes to meet hers. 

  “I’ll tell you where they are.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt introduces Bouvois to some new friends, and Az realizes how hard it is to make friends.

  Initially Matt had been afraid Evangeline could read his mind, but he found that wasn’t true. Still, she seemed to have a sixth sense about when he was thinking of something he wanted to keep secret. For instance, right now he was thinking about the secret rendezvous point he had set up with the Winchesters in case they became separated, and how it didn’t exist.

  “You look worried, Matthew,” she said demurely, making him jump a little. He had been staring out the window and trying not to get sick at the sliding colors and lights outside the car. 

  “I’m betraying my friends. Sorry if I don’t seem more chipper.”

  “Just keep reminding yourself what waits for you if you don’t do this. Mora would be more than happy to continue her administrations.”

  Evangeline’s head turned away from Matt, leaving him with a view of her curly dark hair. He was getting better at matching visual patterns with corresponding textures. The leather seats felt like leather seats under his hands - cool, smooth with the smallest variation of bumps across the surface, smelling strongly of new car and treated leather. But now he could see what that looked like. Dark - black, actually. For a moment he thought there were small splashes of white across the surface, but after studying it for a minute he realized light was reflecting off the slick surface. It was all slowly coming back, how vision worked, how he had looked at the world for the first nine years of his life. It had to. He was going to need those skills if his plan was going to work. 

  One thing he wished he didn’t have to look at was Mora’s evil grin. She was sitting on his left, eyes fixed on Matt with such focus it looked like she was the one trying to figure out how vision worked.  There were three demons in the car, one witch, and one Matt. He was wedged between Mora and another demon in the backseat, while Evangeline was chauffeured up front by her own personal demon driver. He was wearing the suit and gloves and everything. 

  “There it is,” the chauffeur said, its voice rumbling. 

  Matt’s eyes scanned the street, and it took him a second to recognize the location. It looked completely different than how he normally perceived it. Of course the cameras, the guns, the high-voltage defensive measures and humming technology were invisible. So were the well-armed, highly-trained agents lurking inside. From here, in this body, it looked like a crummy old antique shop that should have closed ten years ago.  SHIELD had chosen a good location to hide themselves inside Hell’s Kitchen. 

  Matt had come across their secret office a few months ago. For all their secrecy and subtlety, Matt’s senses picked up the strange building immediately. It made sense, he guessed. SHIELD had secret bases and locations all over the globe. He wasn’t sure if it had been the aliens, Fisk, Daredevil, or something else entirely that made them decide to set up a field office in his city, but he found he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. He was annoyed at first, of course. This was his city. But they were quiet, they did their job, and they didn’t bother him. And it made him feel better that SHIELD was taking a little responsibility for their actions and for the actual safety of people, rather than watching afar from a lofty tower. That didn’t mean he still didn’t keep an eye on the office, stopping by regularly to observe and eavesdrop on the secret agent’s business. 

  From what he picked up, they were well equipped and ready to deal with about anything. If aliens of Loki or some other superpowered freak dropped down in New York, these people were certain they could handle their own.  Matt was counting on that. 

  “Here?” Evangeline asked, her voice sharp.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t sense anything from inside,” the demon on Matt’s right spoke up. 

  “Of course not. It’s the Winchesters -they’ll have it warded,” Mora snapped back.

  Evangeline was staring out the window at the antique shop. Matt couldn’t read her expression. He felt tempted to pray that she wouldn’t see through his trick, but in light of recent events decided to resort to strongly felt hope.  

  “Let’s go,” she said suddenly, her words clipped but firm, “Hal, stay here,” she said to the driver, who nodded silently. The demon on Matt’s right grabbed his arm with that unnatural strength and tugged him out of the car and onto the sidewalk. Without Az to power his muscles and movements, Matt felt the full strength of his human weakness. He stumbled on the curb, but the demon swiftly had him upright, although Matt was pretty sure he was going to have a hand-shaped bruise on his arm after this. Or, not his arm. Whoever’s arm this was. He was going to get his own body back. Evangeline said that Az had gotten away with Matt’s body. Good. Now Matt just had to meet up with them.  If only the next few minutes went right, he could get to that part. 

  Their odd, tension-wracked group walked stiffly into the antiques store, awkwardly pausing at the door as they tried to figure out the order of passage. All of this was carefully observed by a woman sitting at a cluttered counter just inside the shop, which was dark. There were mountains of objects stacked in no particular order, smelling strongly of mothballs, dust, musty fabric and faded wood. It was all mixed together into an indistinguishable “old” smell that clouded Matt’s nose and lay thick on his tongue. 

  “Can I help you?” the woman spoke, her voice strong and clear and surprisingly loud in the quiet of the shop. Matt couldn’t hear everything like normal, but he was pretty sure she was cocking a gun under the counter. 

  Evangeline hissed in Matt’s ear, “Where are they?”

  “She’s a friend. They’re in the back.”

  “She doesn’t act like she knows you.”

  “That’s probably because she’s never seen this body before. Let me talk to her.”

  Evangeline shoved him forward, and he just managed to catch himself before slamming into the counter. The woman jumped slightly, but he knew she wasn’t frightened. She was probably resisting the reflex to shoot such a sketchy character on site. 

  “Can I help you?” she asked, her mouth barely moving. 

  “I really hope so.”

  Evangeline stepped up, grabbing Matt by the collar of his shirt and flinging him to the ground. Instantly the woman had a gun up and trained on Evangeline’s face. The witch didn’t even seem to register the weapon aimed in between her eyes. 

  “You can help me by bringing out your friends in the back, and no one has to get hurt.”

  Matt stayed on the ground, marveling at how perfectly Evangeline worded that demand. In the next second, said friends in the back arrived. Four agents rushed out of the door behind the counter marked “Employees Only.” Two more came in the front. One stepped out from behind a pile of antique chairs and clocks, wearing a dowdy skirt and blouse but packing a very scary looking gun. All the others were toting just as serious looking artillery. 

  Matt couldn’t sense the internal workings of the guns, or smell the rounds, or feel any heat from other technology that might be inside a SHIELD weapon, but he knew SHIELD would have some pretty fancy guns. Hopefully fancy enough to keep Evangeline and her demons busy. And hopefully fancy enough to keep themselves alive.  When Matt thought this plan up, he had felt a pang of guilt at putting innocent people in danger. If SHIELD agents counted as innocent people. Most of them were trying to do good, and had no knowledge of demons. But this was the one plan he could think of that might let him escape, and if anyone was going to deal with a supernatural threat to the city, SHIELD was more prepared than anyone else Matt could think of in Hell’s Kitchen. Aside from the people he was actually trying to get to. 

  “What is this?” Mora shouted, kicking Matt. 

  “Hands up!” One of the agents shouted. The shopkeeper still had her gun in Evangeline’s face. 

  “I knew things wouldn’t be this simple” Evangeline sighed, then waved a hand towards the agent. She flew against the wall, gun clattering to the floor. Immediately gunfire rang out around them. 

  Mora and the other demon were hit several times, but the bullets went through them like water. Or rather, like bullets tearing through skin and muscle and other soft tissues, but that didn’t mean much to a demon. The ground quickly became slick and wet, and Matt was reintroduced the vibrant red that was blood. 

  Evangeline didn’t seem quite as immune - she was clipped in the shoulder and cried out, bucking for a moment before the demons quickly flanked her again. As if things weren’t already chaotic enough, there was a loud crash from the front of the store. Glass shattered, shards flying in all directions. Matt felt a few splinters fly into his back, but nothing debilitating. Chunks of wood and metal crashed to the ground around him, and he rolled out of the way just in time as the car from outside careened through the front of the window and into the shop, throwing antiques in all directions as the engine revved. Hal was behind the wheel, looking stoic as he rolled the window down and began shooting agents down. 

  It was a full-out firefight. Evangeline had recovered and was throwing agents aside with her magic, but even with the shield of the car, she was still vulnerable to bullets. Mora and the other demon were both covered in blood and riddled with bullet wounds, but they were fighting tooth and nail against the agents. Suddenly there was a bright light, and the air crackled with energy, making Matt’s hair stand on end. A beam of blue-white light arced out from an agent’s gun and struck Mora, who screamed, her entire body convulsing. The light vanished, and she fell to the ground, charred black. Matt winced at the thought of the poor woman who had occupied the body before Mora took over. Matt suspected she had long been dead, anyway, though. And whatever fancy technology that agent had hit Mora with, it seemed to be keeping the demon down for the moment.

  “Mora!” Evangeline screamed, her voice hoarse.

  Matt decided this would be a good time to make his escape. 

  More blue light flashed as he scrambled towards the front of the store, staying low to the ground and skirting behind the car, which was now decorated with bullet holes and smoking from the hood. The other demon whose name he had never caught suddenly fell beside him, and he froze, thinking he would be caught. The demon just moaned, then leapt back to its feet and back into battle, just dodging two taser wires that harmlessly lodged in the floor where the demon had just been laying. Where there now lay a cell phone.  At least, that’s what Matt thought it was. He had never actually seen an iPhone before. But nevertheless, he pocketed it. No one seemed to be paying attention to him - he needed to get out of here before that changed.

  “Hey! You! Stay down!” someone shouted. An agent. Great, now he really needed to get out of here. 

  Gritting his teeth, he stood, still hunkered down, and just ran for it. He heard the agent shout again, but his voice was drowned out by an explosion. The force of it threw Matt a short distance, and he hit the concrete hard but managed to roll with it. He didn’t glance behind him to see what had exploded. He didn’t look to see if he was being followed, or who was still standing. He just ran. 

  Running with only his sight to rely on was disorienting at best, nauseating at worst. Like the worst hangover ever without the previous pleasure of drinking. The world around him wasn’t moving fluidly as he ran, but the images seemed to be skipping as his brain tried to process the information flooding his eyes. Things were changing size with every step he took. He knew that wasn’t right, they were just moving closer or further away, but even if he knew that his eyes didn’t seem to, no matter how hard he told them to work. Not to mention he couldn’t process half of what he was seeing. There were just so many colors and patterns and light and shadows. If he hadn’t known Hell’s Kitchen like the back of his hand, he wasn’t sure he could have managed. Luckily, this city was as familiar to him as his own body - the streets were his veins, the buildings his bones. Of course, that metaphor might not be so apt, seeing as how he wasn’t even in his own body at the moment. 

  Still, he managed to make it a few blocks away, twisting down alleys, up ladders, across rooftops, ducking into a parking garage where he could have cover for a few minutes. Hopefully the SHIELD agents were still occupying Evangeline. For a moment he tilted his head and tried to listen to the fight, then remembered he couldn’t do that anymore. Not in this guy, whoever he was. 

  He looked down at his body, fingers running over his clothes. They were dirty, caked in sweat and dirt and blood. They smelled worse. A tan overcoat, a suit, a button-down. A businessman?  Not important. What was important was rescue. 

  He slipped the phone he had nabbed from the demon out of his pocket. And stared at it. Then he shook his head and concentrated on the familiar feel of an iphone in his hand, and not how it looked. He clicked the button once, and the screen came to life. He swiped, but it asked for a passcode. 

  “Shit,” he murmured. He tried using the emergency call, but nothing happened. 

  Just then, a car rolled up. His heart seized up, and he edged towards the window as the car came to a stop alongside him. The window rolled down, and he waited to see the now-familiar face of Evangline. Instead, an unfamiliar face was looking at him, leaning out of the window slightly.

  “Dude, you okay?”

  He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. 

  “I think we should call 911,” the guy said to the driver, who muttered something back.

  Matt raised his hand, “No. No, I just...my phone isn’t working. I need to call a friend.”

  “Uh...you sure you don’t want me to call 911? You’re kind of...covered in blood.”

  The guy pulled out a phone and began dialing. He was still leaning out the window slightly. 

  He may be in a different body, but he could tell whoever this man had been, they hadn’t been sedentary. His muscles had responded with familiar strength and surety as he had leapt across rooftops and up walls on his way here. And he still had his skills. 

  Quicker than the guys in the car could respond, he darted his hand out and snatched the phone before leaping out the open side of the garage, hooking his hand on the ledge and swinging down to the next level. He heard the guys above him shouting, but he rushed to the stairwell and vaulted down the levels until he was streetlevel. 

  Looking down at the phone, he let out a breath of relief when he saw it was still unlocked. 911 was dialed but hadn’t been called yet. He quickly erased the digits and typed in a familiar number. He ditched the coat, buttoned his jacket, and used the discarded coat sleeve to wipe off most of the blood before heading out onto the street, anxiously listening to the phone ring. 

* * *

 

 

  Az sat against the wall on an overturned bucket, listening. Everyone had grouped off - Castiel and the Winchesters were talking in low tones about the Chaste. Apparently the demon they had tied up in the next room had mentioned it in a classic self-righteous villain monologue. Az was vaguely familiar with the Chaste - just enough to know to avoid them. Radical demon-fighting sects were something they tried to avoid in general. Fortunately, the Chaste seemed fairly exclusively obsessed with the Hand, another group Az was vaguely familiar with and tried to avoid. Radical demon-serving immortal ninja sects just weren’t their thing. 

  The conversation had drifted into Dean adamantly demanding if Cas was really alright, complete with firm shoulder touches and accelerating heart rates. Sam, they noticed, had taken a step back and was tapping away on his phone. Az decided to follow Sam’s example and give the two some privacy, instead focusing on the next pairing’s conversation.

  Karen and Claire were in the next next room, actually removed by a wall and not just a plastic sheet. That didn’t mean much to Az, not with Matt’s ears. They felt a slight twinge of guilt on eavesdropping, but the only other option was to focus on their own pairing. Foggy was sitting a few feet away, silent, facing away from Az with a stubborn set to his shoulders. After laying into Az when they had first appeared with Cas, Foggy hadn’t spoke to Az again. Cas had explained the situation to the others, going into detail about everything he had observed while being held captive, and Az just stayed quiet. Feeling useless. And guilty. And -

  They pushed away the impending avalanche of negative feelings and instead focused back in on Karen and Claire. The two women had found a blanket and some tarps and set up a little pallet where they were now sitting, practicing loading and unloading a revolver and a shotgun in turns. 

  “I can’t believe we’re supposed to go up against the Supreme and an army of demons with these things,” Karen muttered, slamming a cartridge in. 

  A little laugh escaped Claire. “I wish we were facing Jessica Lange. At least I could get a signature out of all this.”

  Karen huffed a laugh, then fell silent again. 

  “You okay?” Claire said. 

  “I guess? I’m still taking this all in. Matt being Daredevil...demons, witches - it’s a lot.”   
  “Well, you seem to be taking it well.”   
  “Really?”

  “I’ve seen a lot of shocking things, and how people react. You either shut down, or you act. And you’re acting.”   
  “Believe me, part of me wants to curl up and pretend this isn’t happening. But…”

  “But?”

  “I can’t do that. I would hate myself. This is my city, and if I can help, I’ll do what I have to. I mean, this is good vs. evil - and we’re the good. Most of the time we don’t get the luxury of such clear cut lines.”

  “I’m still not sure it’s so clear cut. If anything, this just makes everything more complicated.”

  “Demons and witches trying to turn Hell’s Kitchen into actual Hell - what’s complicated about that? Seems pretty evil to me.”

  “Well, yeah. But that’s just this bunch. I mean, aliens destroyed New York, but Thor’s an alien, and he helped save the city.”

  “So you think there are good demons out there?”

  “You met Az, didn’t you? They’re on our side.”

  Karen hummed, noncommittal.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” The voice was loud and close, and Az jumped slightly as they realized it was Foggy speaking. 

  “What? Nothing!” Az answered.

  “I know that face - you were listening to something.”

  “I - just keeping an ear out.”

  Foggy paused a moment, then turned his back towards Az again and settled into his brooding posture. Az could still hear Karen and Claire talking, but their focus on the other room had been disrupted. Now they were uncomfortably but undeniably trapped in this moment with Foggy, the silence stretching between them like a spreading fire.

  “Foggy…” Az began, their voice quickly trailing off.

  “What?” Foggy’s voice was sharp. Pointed.

  “I didn’t want to leave Matt. I wouldn’t have, if I could have stayed-”

  “All I’m hearing is would, could - but you did leave him.”

  “Cas-”

  “Look, Az. I know we’ve spent a lot of time together these past few days, and Matt seems to have some sort of weird bond with you, but as soon as we have Matt back, and fixed him up, I never want to see you, or talk to you, or whatever, again. So...let’s just get this over with.”

  “Foggy, I -”

  Az’s words were pointless, a feeble battery-run fan compared to the hurricane of Foggy’s anger and frustration. He wasn’t just giving Az the cold shoulder, he was freezing Az solid. 

  “I’m going to make it right,” they said, then stood and walked away, leaving Foggy alone. Maybe with some space and time, Foggy would calm down. See that Az meant well.  In the meanwhile, Az wandered into the room with Karen and Claire, still wary of the Winchesters. 

  “Hey,” they said in the doorway, causing the women to jerk their heads in Az’s direction. Karen’s heart rate started picking up, contrasting with Claire’s casual, “Oh, hey.”

  They crossed the room and sat across from the two women, folding their legs and resting their elbows on their knees. 

  “Foggy still mad?” Claire asked, and Az let out a deep sigh. 

  “Oh yeah.” Az liked Claire. She was the only one who acted normal around Az. Unlike Karen, who was currently sitting straight up, every muscle tense, breath taut. 

  “Oh…um...I don’t know if we’ve officially met. I’m Az. Azirale.” Az said, then stuck their hand out towards Karen. They couldn’t tell if she was scared or angry, but she was freaking out in some respect. And she didn’t shake their hand.

  “I’m gonna...go...talk to Foggy,” she got the words out, slightly strangled, then beat a quick retreat. Az slumped, running a hand through their hair. Matt’s hair. No wonder she didn’t want to talk to them. They were wearing one of her friends. Who she just discovered was a superpowered vigilante. Yeah, she probably didn’t want to see them right now.

  “Real smooth,” Claire said, snorting.

  “This is all my fault,” Az moaned. “No wonder everyone hates me.”

  “Hey. This isn’t your fault, it’s Bouvois’.”

  “Bouvois didn’t make me possess Matt.”

  Claire emptied the shotgun, the shells clattering against the concrete floor.

  “Yeah, that’s true. But you saved Matt’s life.”

  “I got him killed.”

  “No, trust me. He would have gotten himself killed. He almost dies all the time going against just normal humans. Against demons?” she gulped, and Az realized her voice was shaking slightly, “You saved his life.”

  Az blinked. This explained why Claire was so warm towards them. 

  “Don’t get me wrong - you still fucked up in a lot of other ways. But so has everyone else here. So don’t beat yourself up. That’s not going to help anyone. I swear, between you and Matt, I can’t tell who has the biggest guilt complex.”

  “Matt, for sure,” Az answered reflexively. Claire laughed.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. But that only makes you 2nd place.”

  “That’s pretty high, for someone who hasn’t felt guilty about anything in at least a century.”

  “Maybe Matt just rubbed off on you that much.”

  “Yeah, maybe…” Az muttered.

  “He did, didn’t he?” 

  Az closed their eyes, “Yeah.”

  They both sat in companionable silence for a moment, and despite all the information Matt’s senses provided, Az couldn’t tell what Claire was thinking. Not that it mattered, because they were pretty consumed in their own feelings at the moment. Feelings. Real emotions. That’s what Matt had done to them. What Foggy and Claire had done, too. 

  They straightened up and on a sudden impulse, pulled their shirt up and showed Claire Matt’s chest. They heard her gasp slightly.

  “What - I thought-” they heard her clothes shift, her knees dully on the floor, and then she was brushing fingers cautiously across the smooth, unscarred skin of their chest. 

  “Castiel healed the wound. Matt - his body, it’s alive again. He doesn’t need me.” Az pulled the shirt back down, and Claire sat back.

  “That’s amazing. I guess he really is an angel,” Claire said in awe.

  “As soon as we get Matt back, I’ll give him his body, and then I’ll just...leave you guys alone.”

  “You’re running away?”

  Az scrunched their face up, “No. I’m just saying. The Winchesters and Castiel are here, so-”

  “So what? You saved Matt’s life already, and now you’re going to abandon him? We need everyone for this fight, and that’s including you.”

  “But-”

  “No buts. You’re in this just as thick as the rest of us. You’re one of the good guys now.”

  Az smiled softly, “Okay.”

  “But you can’t stay in Matt’s body forever.”

  “I just said - I know! I know that!”

  “But we’ll figure something out together, when we get Matt back, and Bouvois is taken care of.”

  “Yeah,” Az said, with a little more conviction. 

  “I think I have the hang of this by now. Let’s go join the others and see what brilliant plan the Winchesters have come up with,” Claire said, gathering up the guns and standing. She helped Az to their feet, and they walked back into the main room together. 

  As soon as they walked in, all heads snapped in their direction. Az immediately wished they had been paying attention to the conversation, because they were overcome with the sensation it had been about them. No, instead they had to get all sappy with Claire. 

  “What’s going on?” Claire said.

  “Cas needs a different vessel,” Dean said, still facing Az. Az had a bad feeling.

  “A new vessel?” Claire asked, not leaving Az’s side. Her heart was picking up a little, and Az felt a little better that he wasn’t the only one feeling uneasy.

  “When this woman agreed to be my vessel, it was only temporary. She can’t contain my full power.” Cas said, stepping towards them a little bit. Karen and Foggy were standing off to the side. The demon was still tied up behind the plastic sheet, and for some reason the thing that bothered Az most about this moment was that some stranger was privy to it all.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means if Cas doesn’t get a new vessel soon, she might explode,” Dean said.

  “And he can’t use all his powers. And we’re going to need them if we’re going to rescue Matt,” Sam added.

  “You want to use Matt.” Az said, jumping right to the point that the Winchesters were dancing around.

  “Haven’t enough people possessed Matt? Can’t you find another vessel?” Foggy spoke up, catching Az by surprise. They thought Foggy would jump at the opportunity to get rid of Az.

  “We have a vessel right here - and we know Matt’s body can handle some pretty powerful mojo,” Dean said, squaring up to Foggy.

  “What about Matt? Where’s he going to go when we rescue him if there’s an angel in his body?” Karen asked.

  “And where’s Az supposed to go?” Claire asked.

  Everyone began talking over one another, filling the room with chaotic sound for someone without super hearing. Az just stood there, taking it all in. Everyone had an opinion on where Az should go, where Cas should go, what Matt’s body should be used for. 

  “No,” Az said, drawing everyone’s attention. “You can’t use Matt’s body.”

  “Excuse me?” Dean said, and Az could basically hear the dramatic eyebrow raise.

  “An angel needs permission to enter a vessel’s body, and Matt isn’t here to give permission.”

  “Matt’s not he-” Dean began, but Az cut him off.

  “And if Cas possessed Matt’s body, he would heal it involuntarily. His senses, his sight - they would be changed. And you can’t do that without Matt’s permission. I won’t let you.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Dean said, and began to say more but was interrupted by Foggy.

  “Az is right. Besides, you guys are talking about exorcising Az - they saved Cas, and Matt. We need them.”

  “They’re one of us. We all need to work together,” Claire followed up, edging in front of Az slightly. Protectively. Dean let out a defeated sigh and threw his hands in the air.

  “Dean, they’re right. I wouldn’t have gotten out without Azirale.”

  “Yeah, okay. But we still to find you another vessel.”

  At that moment, Foggy’s phone began to ring.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions and a new friend

  Az warily stood behind Claire, finding comfort in the barrier she provided between themself and the Winchesters. It seemed to have been settled that the brothers would not, in fact, be exorcising Az or letting Cas possess Matt’s body, which was good. They still felt uneasy, however, despite everyone rising to their defense. Perhaps the unease came from the knowledge that no one, except Claire, and maybe Castiel, really cared what happened to Az. Foggy and Karen didn’t give two shits about Az, they only cared about Matt. Which they understood, really. Matt was their friend, and Az was the demon who possessed their friend. Az would hate themself too. They kind of did, anyway. But they were still walking the earth, so Az would take it.

  Foggy’s cell phone continued to ring, the jaunty tune echoing through the empty building and somehow making the situation more tense. The demon in the next room had lifted its chin, tilting its head towards the sound of the phone. It was the first time Az had noticed it stirring since they arrived. 

  “Who the fuck is calling you?” Dean said.

  “I don’t know! It might be a client,” Foggy fished the phone out of his pocket, looking at the screen for a moment before announcing, “It’s an unknown number.” 

  “Hang up! We’re kind of busy at the moment.”

  “Wait! What if it’s...one of them?” Karen said.

  “One of them?” Claire asked.

  “One of the..the bad guys. Bouvois. What if it’s like, a ransom call? For Matt?”

  Everyone was quiet for a moment, considering.

  “Then you have to answer it,” Claire said.

  “Wait!” Sam interrupted, “What if they’re tracing the call?”

  “Demons? Tracing calls? I thought we were dealing with a witch, not the FBI.” Foggy said.

  “We don’t know what they’re capable of. We have to be careful.” Sam said.

  “Claire’s right. If it’s about Matt, we have to answer,” Foggy said. “If you’re worried about them tracing the call...Az. Teleport me out of here for a second.”

  “Oh - yeah. Let’s do it,” Az said, stepping out from behind Claire a bit.

  “Now hold on,” Dean stepped between them, hands outstretched, “Let’s not be stupid. If it is Bouvois calling in demands for Matt, what are you going to say, huh?”

  “I’m a lawyer, I’ll figure it out.”

  Az had been around Foggy long enough to know that no matter what the Winchesters said, if there was half a chance the call could help Matt, he was going to take it. Az also knew enough about the Winchesters to know they weren’t going to let Foggy answer that phone if they didn’t want him to. And when they felt the slight nod Dean gave Sam, and felt Sam’s muscles prepare to move in on Foggy, Az could say with some degree of certainty the Winchesters didn’t want Foggy to take the call. Az recognized all this, but more than that they recognized an opportunity.

  They teleported once to Foggy’s side, startling everyone in the room.  Before anyone could react further though, they took Foggy by the elbow and said, “Sorry, quick sidebar,” and teleported again, this time vanishing from the room.

  They reappeared on a rooftop near where Az had first met Az. They were glad they still had Foggy by the elbow, because he stumbled a bit after they landed, his heart racing a bit.

  “They won’t trace the call back to the others from here. Go ahead and answer,” Az said, releasing Foggy’s arm. 

  Foggy fumbled with his phone, “R-right.”

  Az heard him tap the screen, heard a faint beep, and then a familiar voice came through.

  “Foggy?”

  “Uh...hello? Who’s this?”

  “Oh, right. It’s me. It’s Matt.”

  Foggy’s heart began racing in earnest, “Matt?”

  “I escaped from Bouvois. I need help.”

  Az frowned, “That’s Castiel’s voice.”

  “Dean’s angel buddy?” Foggy asked, confused.

  “Huh?” Castiel’s voice said through the phone.

  “One sec,” Foggy said, pressing his phone against his chest to muffle it, “What do you mean it’s Castiel? We just left that guy behind the others.”

  “When I was in Bouvois’ warehouse, I was locked up with Castiel in his normal vessel - the lady is just a temp. When we escaped he had to leave his body behind - and that’s his body talking to you.”

  Foggy shivered, “This is seriously creeping me out.”

  “That could be anyone inhabiting Cas’ vessel.”

  “Great,” Foggy sighed, then lifted the phone back to his ear, “Matt?”

  “Still here.”

  “Okay, I’m going to need you to tell me something only Matt knows.” Then, under his breath, “This is so fucking cliche.”

  “Uh…” Maybe-Matt hesitated, “We’re avocados at law?”

  Az shook their head, catching Foggy’s attention, “They could have tortured him, or read his mind, or anything. That’s not good enough.”

  Foggy lowered the phone again. “Then what is? How can we tell when there’s fucking magic involved?”

  Az let out a half-growl, half-sigh, running their hands through their hair, “If it’s really him, we have to save him.”

  “Well obviously.”

  Az bit their lip, “We have to go check it out. I’ll be able to detect a demon or a magic spell if we’re there.”

  “And if you do?”

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Shouldn’t we get the others?”

  “I have the feeling this is time sensitive, and debating with the Winchesters doesn’t seem very conducive towards getting something done quickly."   
  Foggy sighed, then lifted the phone again, “Alright buddy. Where are you? Az and I are coming to save your ass.”

 

* * *

 

  Matt stood with his back against the brick wall of a Subway sandwich stop, eyes flitting back and forth, trying to take everything in. The sunlight falling through the branches of a nearby tree. The buildings stretching up to the sky around him - the blue, blue sky. It was hemmed in by the city, but it was just as amazing as he remembered. 

  The longer he had sight, the better he was getting at using it. Remembering how it worked, how to read people visually, what shadows and facial expressions indicated. For instance - two men across the street were staring at him. Intently. One had dark hair, a little taller, scruffy, slim. The other was a little less fit, with longer, blonde hair...wait a minute…

  One of them waved at him, and he realized he was right. That was Foggy. And...him. Or Az, really. But that was Matt’s body. That was him. 

  He stared, mouth hanging open slightly, not moving as they made their way across the street to him. Then suddenly they were standing in front of him, and he was taking in every detail. 

  “Matt?” Foggy said, worry in his voice.

  “Yeah…” Matt answered, half-aware, then realized why the worry was in Foggy’s voice. Right. He looked down at his unfamiliar body and singed clothes. 

  “Foggy, it’s me, I swear. I know this isn’t...I don’t know whose body this is. Bouvois put me in here, I guess. And I...just...wow.”

  Foggy raised an eyebrow, “Wow?”

  “It’s you,” Matt said, “I mean...I’ve never seen you before.”

  Foggy’s face changed slightly, and it took Matt a moment to realize he was blushing.

  “Oh yeah? How do I look? Stunning? Beautiful? Devastatingly handsome?”

  Matt smiled, “Perfect.”

  Foggy’s blush darkened, then suddenly he opened his eyes wide and fumbled for Az, who was standing right beside him. 

  “H-hey,” Az stuttered, confused but not resisting as Foggy grabbed them and shoved them towards Matt. 

  “Me? What about you! You haven’t seen yourself in 20 years!”

  Az smiled a little, and Matt returned the nervous grin. But his expression softened the longer he looked at his own face, staring...not quite at him. It was ironic, because his eyes were the thing he couldn’t stop looking at. They looked...fine. Normal. He had always been a little fearful that they looked out of place, disconcerting. But he looked...good. Of course Foggy was always reassuring him that his eyes were fine, and he was unfairly hot, but…

  It was too much. He couldn’t deal with this right now.

  “Well...what do you think?” Az asked, breaking the awkward silence between them. 

  “I guess this is why no one ever believed I just walked into a door...this looks way worse than I thought,” he half-laughed, gesturing to a bruise on Az’s forehead. 

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Foggy half-laughed back, then the smile fell from his face. He stepped forward, grabbing Matt by the forearms, then pulling him into a hug.

  “Man, I was so worried.”

  Matt returned the embrace, squeezing Foggy a little tighter than normal. He noticed Az behind him, shuffling their feet, remaining uncharacteristically quiet.  When he and Foggy parted from their hug, Az took a deep breath and stepped forward.

  “Matt, I never meant to leave you. I didn’t want to leave, Cas just pulled us out, and I couldn’t get back. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t...I’m sorry.”

  Az’s voice quavered before they cut themselves off, tightly clenching their jaw before regaining composure. 

  “You said you would protect me, but then I couldn’t do the same for you.”

  “Az…” Matt began, but Az wasn’t finished.

  “But look,” they took Matt’s hand and placed it on their chest - on his own chest. He was stunned for a moment, because suddenly this body standing in front of him felt familiar. He knew how his chest felt, and somehow touching and seeing at the same time threw him for a loop again but yeah - this was his body, and this was him, and he could see! But after a second of reeling, he realized what Az was actually trying to show him.

  “It’s...healed?”

  Az let his hand drop.

  “Yeah. I got Cas to heal it as soon as we were out. He wanted to heal your vision, too, but I thought I’d leave that up to you.”

  “Wait - the wound? Like, where you got stabbed through the heart? That’s gone?” Foggy exclaimed, lowering his voice when a passerby glanced in their direction.

  “All cleared up. Matt - his body, is alive again. No demon power required.”

  Matt was dealing with a lot right now, but he wasn’t too overwhelmed to pick up on the hollow joke or intonation in Az’s voice for that last bit. 

  “Az, you couldn’t have-” Matt started, but suddenly Az lifted a hand, cocking their head slightly. Matt’s stomach clenched, his heart picking up. 

  “What? What is it?”

  “We’re being watched,” Az hissed.

  “Oh shit,” Foggy said, head whipping around as he tried to spot the threat. 

  “Where?” Matt asked.

  “She’s at your 9 o’clock.”

  “A demon?”

  “No, but she’s been around demons. I can smell it on her. Blood, too. She might be injured. And….smoke? GSR. And she’s talking...I think she might be...like, a secret agent?”

  “The fuck?” Foggy breathed, while Matt just groaned and ran a hand down his face.

  “Yeah, that sounds right. She’s from SHIELD.”

  “SHIELD? Like, the Avengers? Like, top secret superhero secret agent SHIELD?”

  Matt nodded, “Yeah. I might have...um...indirectly caused a firefight and...explosion...at one of their secret bases.”

  Foggy blinked a few times.

  Az raised their eyebrows, “We leave you alone for a few hours…”

  “I had to, to get away from Bouvois!”

  “I mean, I understand you gotta do what you gotta do...but blowing up a SHIELD base?” Foggy said.

  “Well...I don’t know if this is good or bad news, but she can’t seem to get in contact with the base you blew up.” Az said.

  “What is she saying?” Matt asked.

  “Hmm…” Az cocked their head for a moment, then “Suspect sighted. Talking with two other unidentified men. Does anyone copy? Hello?” Az paused for a moment,   “Aaand...now she’s coming this way. Time to go.”

  Az grabbed both of them by the arm, but Matt shook them off.

  “Wait! You can’t teleport us out of here in plain sight! She’s seen us - she could identify us!”

  “Well then come on,” Az gritted out, pulling them towards a nearby alley.

  “Oh shit, I see her,” Foggy said, looking over his shoulder. Matt followed suit, and saw a woman walking towards them, eyes fixed. Their eyes met, and she started running.

  “Way to be obvious, guys! Come on!” Az said, pulling them along faster. 

  A few people cried out in surprise behind them, and even without his super hearing Matt could hear the agent’s sprinting footsteps pounding against the sidewalk. 

  “You three! Stop!”

  They were standing at the mouth of the alleyway when Matt felt her hand on his shoulder. He had to fight every reflex to throw her off, and instead turn around calmly. 

  She definitely had been at the SHIELD base. She was coated in soot and dust, there were traces of blood on her clothes, and her dark hair was disheveled. She had one hand on Matt’s shoulder, and one hovering near her hip. 

  “You were at the antique shop.”

  Matt didn’t answer.

  “You’re not considered a threat, now. But if you resist, you’ll be reclassified.”   
  “What am I classified now?”

  “A witness...I saw them bring you in. You didn’t look like you wanted to be there.”

  Matt still didn’t say anything, and she let go of his shoulder with a sigh. She held both her hands in the air.

  “Look, I don’t know what’s going on. But you can trust me. I can help.”

  Her eyes flickered to Az and Foggy. 

  “Yeah, I don’t think so,” Az said, and Matt groaned inwardly. “Look, I can just wipe this chick’s memory. No way to identify any of us. No problemo. We got bigger issues to deal with.”   
  The woman’s peaceful demeanor suddenly vanished, and her hand was back at her hip, her entire posture sharp and defensive. 

  “You were involved in an attack on a SHIELD base - and you’re all active suspects. I’m taking you in.”

  “Can you really wipe her memory?” Foggy whispered out of the side of his mouth to Az.

  “Oh yeah, definitely.”

  “I’m right here! I can hear you!” the agent barked.

  “Uh, guys - I think we’re starting to draw attention,” Matt hissed.

  Several people were glancing their direction, and a few had slowed to observe. No one was hanging around or giving them too much attention, but if a fight started or the agent drew her gun, Matt knew that would change.

  “Listen - what’s your name?” Foggy started.

  “Agent Hernandez.”

  “Okay...got a first name?”

  “Not one relevant to this conversation.”

  “Right. Well...Agent Hernandez, listen. We’re the good guys. Those guys that blew up your base? We’re trying to take them down. And it’s...kind of a tricky situation.”

  “I’m a SHIELD agent. Tricky situations are my specialty.”   
  “Yeah, not sure that applies here,” Az said, “Look, you guys can keep dealing with villains and superheroes and aliens and we’ll deal with this.”   
  Az moved to leave, and in an instant her gun was out, and several people around them began screaming and running.

  “Damn it,” Matt said.

  Az moved towards Hernandez, the gun fired, then in the next moment they were no longer standing on the street, they were standing on the roof of an unfamiliar building with an incomplete air condition unit halfway covered in tarps. 

  “Fuck!” Az shouted, hands flying to their chest, which was covered in blood.

  “Did you fucking die again?” Foggy screamed. 

  Az frowned, moving their hands up to their shoulder, “No, she just clipped me. It’s just bleeding a lot.”

  “Yeah, human bodies tend to do that when they get shot!” Foggy screeched.

  “It’s just a nick! In the shoulder! See?” 

  “No, no! Do not show me!”

  Foggy danced away from Az and they tried to show him the bullet wound in their shoulder. Matt was glad to see his body hadn’t been murdered again, but was less happy to see Agent Hernandez standing on the roof with them, gun still drawn and looking shocked. In an instant her gun was trained on Az again, and she was shouting.

  “Where are we! What did you do?”

  Foggy finally noticed her too. “What the fuck! Why did you bring her?”

  “Because Matt was worried about her identifying us and causing a scene and all that.”

  “So you brought her with us?”

  “I couldn’t just leave her! And I still have to wipe her memory!”

  “No one is wiping my memory! Now tell me where I am, who you are, and what’s going on.” Hernandez ordered, her hands steady and eyes flitting between the three of them. 

  “Man, those are actually pretty complicated questions for me,” Az said.

  “I am not kidding! Answer me, unless you want me to shoot you again! And it won’t be just a nick in the shoulder this time!”

  “I can assure you, I’ve had worse,” Az said. 

  “Okay, before this gets any worse - Az, shut up. Hernandez. I swear to God you’ve got to trust us. We are the good guys.” Foggy’s hands hovered in front of him, placating.    
  “Then how come none of you will answer my questions?”

  Foggy turned his back to Hernandez and faced Az for a moment. “You can really, legit wipe her memory?” he whisper-shouted.

  “Again! Right here!” Hernandez said.

  Az gave a thumbs up and exaggerated wink to Foggy, who gestured behind him towards the agent.

  “Then any time now!”

  “Wait!” Matt turned towards Hernandez, “Those guns - with the blue light. They took...some of them down.”

  “Yes. They were developed from Asgardian tech.”

  “Do you have more?”

  She narrowed her eyes, “Yes. But no way you’re getting them without the cooperation of a willing SHIELD agent.”

  “Wait - they had guns that took Evangeline’s goons out?” Az asked, looking impressed and maybe a little frightened.

  “Fried them to a husk, and not just the vessel. I think it took...all of them out.”

  Az let out a low whistle, “Yeah, that could be useful.”

  “So...where are we?” Hernandez repeated, still staring them all down.

  “We’re still in New York, lady, calm down. Just a few blocks away. This is home base, for now,” Az said. 

  Foggy shook his head, “Wait, so we’re just trusting her now?”

  “Evangeline is not going to be happy I escaped. Whatever’s she’s planning, she’s going to accelerate it. We’ve run out of time. We need to go on the offensive, and we need heavier artillery than one knife if we’re going to win this,” Matt said.

  “One knife, and one angel,” Az corrected. 

  Matt blinked, “Angel?”

  “Oh yeah, you’ve been out of the loop. While I was in prison, I met Dean’s boyfriend angel Cas. Remember, Cas? He was brooding about him when we were trapped in the devil’s circle.”

  “So now we’ve got an angel? I...don’t even know what that means,” Matt said. 

  “He’s the one that healed you up, and he can do a lot more than that. But not right now, because he needs his original vessel for - oh, yeah! That’s you!”

  Matt felt his confusion grow, “What?”

  “Your body! That you’re in right now! That’s Cas’ body!”

  “I’m….in an angel’s body?”

  Foggy put a hand on Matt’s shoulder, “Don’t think about it too hard. That’s how I’m dealing with any of this.”   
  “A-HEM!” Hernandez cleared her throat loudly, getting all their attention before putting her gun away. Matt noticed her hand didn’t leave her hip, though. 

  “I have no clue what you are all talking about, but it seems pretty convoluted. If you want those guns, you’re going to have to explain it all to me, very. Carefully. And then I’ll decide if I trust you or not.”

  As if their situation wasn’t already tense enough, at just that moment a group of people spilled out the roof access door with weapons drawn and aimed at Hernandez.

  “God damn it, can we stop pointing guns for two seconds?” Foggy shouted, and it took Matt a moment to realize who was now standing on the roof with them. Two gruff-looking men, that must be the Winchesters. Then three women - Claire, Karen, and someone else? Karen and Claire made eye contact with him, and they stared for a moment.

  “Is that...Matt?” Karen said, and he instantly recognized her voice.

  “Karen,” he said, and couldn’t resist the smile tugging at his lips. He had imagined what she looked like, but seeing her for the first time, actually having an image in his head to go along with her voice -  it was nice. 

  “Matt?” Claire echoed Karen, and his smile broadened. He couldn’t stop staring. He stepped forward and Claire walked out to meet him while Karen continued staring.

  “Hey, hold up!” Dean barked, and Claire’s relieved smile changed to annoyance.

  “What now?”

  “We don’t know if that’s Matt,” Sam said, positioning himself between Matt and Claire.

  “It’s Matt, okay?” Foggy said.

  “How do you know for sure?” Dean asked.

  “I just know. Az, you wanna testify?”

  “It’s Matt. Definitely not a demon, I would be able to tell.”

  “Uh...demons? Again - someone care to explain what’s going on?” Hernandez said, backing away from all of them slightly.

  “Who’s this?” Dean commanded, gesturing at Hernandez with his gun. 

  “Just a secret agent we picked up. She has some magical guns that kill demons,” Az said.

  Sam’s gun, which had also been trained on Hernandez, drooped slightly.

  “What?”

  “I’m an agent of SHIELD. This man,” she nodded towards Matt, “and three others entered our undercover base and attacked us. We retaliated. Weird shit started happening. He fled, and I followed. And then he,” she indicated Az, “teleported me here, against my will. And now you’re all pointing guns at me, and threatening to wipe my memory, and talking about angels and demons. I’ve already sent a message to my superiors, and they’re on their way. So if you don’t want to be taken in by SHIELD, start explaining, now.”

  They all exchanged glances, and Dean lowered his gun with a frustrated curse. 

  “Damn. Like this wasn’t already complicated enough.”

  “SHIELD? Like...the Avengers SHIELD?” Karen asked, and Hernandez nodded a little wearily.

  “Yeah, like the Avengers. Damn Romanov for leaking that.”

  “Didn’t you get shut down?”

  “Classified,” Hernandez snapped back. An awkward silence fell over the group for a moment, then the strange woman Matt didn’t know stepped up.

  “I see you got my vessel back.”

  It took a moment for Matt to realize she was talking to him, and another to realize what she meant. “Oh - wait, you’re the angel? Cas? This is your body?”

  Cas nodded, “I can’t stay in this vessel much longer without putting her in danger. We need to switch back.”

  “Switch back?”

  “I’ll put your soul back into your body, and then I will take mine back.”

  Matt gulped. “Right.”

  “We should go inside. It’s not going to be...easy.” Cas said. 

  “Of course,” Matt sighed. Nothing ever was.

 

* * *

  Back inside, Matt was talking with his friends one last time while he could still see them. 

  “Can we really trust these guys?” Karen was saying, eyeing the Winchesters while they waited impatiently with Cas. They had agreed to give Matt a moment, but it was apparent their patience was already growing thin. 

  “I think we have to,” Matt answered, then brushed a thumb against Karen’s jawline. “I’m sorry you had to find out...everything, like this.”

  She smiled for a half second, and it didn’t reach her eyes, “We can talk about that later.” She reached up and covered his hand with hers, “I’m just glad you’re safe now.”

  “For now. We got a lot more to deal with before any of us are safe,” Matt answered, lowering their hands together before stepping away. He looked at Claire, memorized her smile. 

  “We’ll deal,” she said, and he smiled back. It still felt weird to smile with another person’s face. He lifted a hand to her temple, trailing it down her cheek to her chin. He knew the contours of her face well, but he wanted to match them with the face he was seeing. She laughed and ducked her head slightly, then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

  “Hurry up!” Dean called, earning a elbow from his brother, but Matt knew he was right. They didn’t have time to waste. Still, he had to have this moment. He would never have an opportunity like this again.

  He turned to Foggy, who laughed and gave a little nervous shrug. 

  “You gonna run your feelers over my mug now?”

  “You don’t want me to?”

  Foggy shrugged, this time not nervous. His eyes were soft as he stepped closer to Matt, “Go ahead.”

  Matt felt Foggy’s face, memorizing the colors of his eyes, his dimples, the affection in his expression as he let Matt gawk at him. Then the moment was over, they hugged for a moment, and Matt turned around and walked to the chair the Winchesters had pulled up for him. They assured him he would want to be sitting. Agent Hernandez was standing in the corner, confused but patient.  Sam and Dean gave him space, thankfully, but Castiel was standing directly in front of him, knees brushing against his own. Matt turned and looked at Az, who was sitting next to him in another chair. 

  “No moment looking at your own face, huh?” Az said. 

  Matt stared at Az’s face - his own face, for a moment. He didn’t feel the same need to memorize his own features. He wasn’t sure why. So he shook his head, “No. I’m ready.”

  “Good. Brace yourself...this will be unpleasant.” Cas said. 

  Matt took a deep breath and gripped the seat of the chair, then nodded.

  Castiel leaned forward, slowly bringing his hand closer to Matt’s chest. Then Matt felt a burning down his sternum. The closer Cas’ hand got, the hotter and more intense the burning became, until it was all he could think about. It was like someone was cutting him open with a molten knife. Then Cas’ fingertips made contact, and Matt couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from his throat. He was aware of something glowing beneath him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look down at his chest. He just squeezed his eyes shut and waited for it to end. He felt pain, heard nothing, then suddenly the raw, exposed sensation of being outside his body overwhelmed him. It only lasted a moment, and then he was plunged into a familiar mindscape. He was numb, breathless, but something just felt  _ right _ .  

  It took a moment for him to regain feeling, and for the ringing in his ears to subside, and then he twitched his fingers. They were _ his  _ fingers. His muscles. He couldn’t exactly describe how it was different from Castiel’s body, but it was. He recognized it. This body was his, this brain was his, and he was back where he belonged. 

_   Welcome back _ , Az’s voice came in his mind, and Matt grinned. In his mind, he replied. 

_   Good to be back.  _   



	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the team finally all together, they try to actually sit down and plan something out for once.

  Dean watched in mild horror as the blinding holy light subsided and Matt, Cas, and the woman Cas had been possessing all dropped to the floor. He ran forward, along with Sam and Foggy, all of them aiming for different people lying on the floor. Sam managed to catch the woman before she hit the floor, but Foggy wasn’t as lucky with Matt. Dean, however, could only focus on Cas.  He caught him under the arms and slowly lowered him to the floor, leaning over him and searching his face for any sign of consciousness. He had just gotten him back, and if this hurt him in any way…

  But in the next second, Cas’ eyes fluttered opened, and he let out a low groan before sitting up. Dean leaned back, giving Cas his space, but still searching his face like it was the last time he would ever see it. 

  “You good?” he asked, hoping the gruffness of his voice would hide the emotion behind it. 

  Cas ran his hands down his chest, then nodded at Dean, “Yes, I think so.”

  Dean couldn’t help the smile cracking his face, so he coughed and thumped Cas on the back before helping him stand, “It’s good to have you back.”

  “It’s good to be back,” Cas said, then stared at Dean in that way he always did - that way Dean had missed for so long - before drawing him into an embrace. Dean let himself enjoy it for a brief moment before remembering there were other people in the room, watching. His eyes flew around, waiting to see everyone staring, but no one was paying attention. Claire and Sam were kneeling beside the woman, and Foggy and Karen were helping Matt up. Agent Hernandez was standing back, observing it all with an unreadable expression.  While everyone was busy, Dean leaned into Cas’ embrace and squeezed, lingering in his arms for a moment longer before pulling away. Cas’ furrowed his brow as Dean took a step back, but Dean didn’t let himself think about why. 

  “Okay, so obviously you weren’t lying about the supernatural stuff,” Hernandez said, drawing everyone out of each of their quiet, vulnerable moments. “But I’m still waiting on my explanation.”

  “Okay, here’s the thing,” Matt was getting to his feet, dusting his pants off. No - not Matt, Azirale. Dean was getting better at telling when the demon was speaking and when Murdock was doing the talking. 

  “There’s an evil witch in town, she’s trying to do some sort of magic spell that turns Hell’s Kitchen into a literal portal to hell. She’s got an army of demons on her side, we’re trying to stop her. Actually, apparently you met her...oh wow, you weren’t exaggerating about that explosion.”

  Foggy stepped in as Az got sidetracked, apparently reviewing Matt’s memories of his fight at the SHIELD base. 

  “Look, you’re SHIELD. You deal with crazy stuff all the time. This can’t be too much of a surprise, right?”

  “Not too much, no. But new, and dangerous. If what you’re saying is true, we need to go to the nearest SHIELD base and report it. You have to tell us everything you know.”

  Dean huffed a laugh, stepping closer, “Nuh-uh. No way. We’ve dealt with worse than this on our own.”

  “If you want my guns, then you come in.”

  “We don’t need some weird government alien tech to take down a witch and a few demons,” Dean said, “Cas is at full power now - these suckers don’t stand a chance.”

  “My superiors have already been contacted. When they get here, do you want to be considered an ally, or an enemy? That’s your choice,” Hernandez stated.

  “Actually….no,” Az said, drawing eyes back to them. 

  “Excuse me?” Hernandez said. 

  “You haven’t contacted your superiors - your comm is busted. It was damaged in the explosion - you’re on your own.”

  Dean squinted, trying to determine whether Murdock or Az was talking. 

  “A SHIELD base exploded - even if she hasn’t called her boss, they’re going to come and investigate,” Foggy said. 

  “But they don’t know about any of us.” 

  Everyone stood in silence for a moment, contemplating. 

  Murdock continued, “But you’re right - they’re coming. And so is Evangeline. We’re backing her into a corner - like Dean said, we have Cas. And those agents did a number on her and her lackeys.”

  “More reason to go get help. Listen, I don’t know what exactly is going on, but SHIELD can help. If you care about this city, then-”

  “They’re right. Evangeline has everything she needs to attempt a transmutation. She has sacrifices being held captive in her warehouse - that’s where she was headed,” Cas said, nodding towards the still-unconscious woman on the floor. 

  “What all does she need?” Karen asked.

  “Human sacrifices. Sigils around the circumference of the portal. And a lot of power.”

  “Doesn’t she have that already? What’s stopping her?”

  Dean mulled over that - what was stopping Evangeline? According to Cas, she had human sacrifices being held captive right now. She had been operating in the city for a while now, why was she waiting? He met eyes with Sam, and almost instantly they came to the same conclusion. When they both turned their eyes toward Murdock, it took him a moment to notice. 

  “Uh...are you looking at me?”

  “You’re why she hasn’t acted yet,” Sam said.

  “What? What do I have to do with it?”

  “That guy,” Sam gestured towards the demon still chained up in the other room, “said something about Bouvois cutting a deal. A deal that was fulfilled when Evangeline had you captured.”

  “Why would she want me, though?”

  “I don’t know. He said something about you being the protector of this city, and the Chaste? I don’t know if that was related, though.”

  Dean was pretty sure it was, by the way Matt’s expression froze and he went a shade paler than normal.

  “Holy shit, you were trained by the Chaste?” he suddenly blurted out, and Dean figured Az was doing the talking again.

  “I was...but I didn’t think it was real...but now…”

  “Wait, wait, wait...what is the Chaste?” Foggy said.

  “Stick - the man who trained me - he was training me to be a member of the Chaste. An ancient order that fought against the Hand, who were involved in some dark magic, or something. I didn’t believe it when I was a kid. I never did, but now…”

  “Okay, so a mystic order of blind ninjas tried to recruit you to fight against an army of magic evil-doers, and you just though to bring that up now?” Dean exclaimed.

  “To be fair, a lot has been going on,” Az said. “But if the Hand is involved somehow, like partnering up with Evangeline, it makes more sense why they want Matt.”

  “We’re hunters, how come we’ve never heard of this? Chasing down bad magic is our shtick.” Dean said.

  Sam spoke up. “Actually, I think I have heard of the Chaste, and the Hand.”

  Dean raised his eyebrows, “Wanna elaborate, Sammy boy?”

  “I don’t know - it was a long time ago. It was at the Men of Letter’s libraries - I was looking for something else, so didn’t spend much time looking into it. But if what I remember is right, the Hand is involved with a powerful demon. Something called the Beast. But that was hundreds of years ago.”

  “Oh trust me, they’re still around. And not to be messed with,” Az said, quieter than usual. 

  Dean felt a sudden anger well up inside him, he turned around and swiped an old empty paint can off the table, shouting a curse as he did so.

  “Damn it! This just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”

  There was silence for a moment as the clatter of the paint can died away, all thinking of what to do next. Then, slowly, from the other room, deep laughter. It started off as a low chuckle then grew to a booming cackle. 

  “You have it all figured out, don’t you? And now you see - there’s nothing you can do.”

  “What the-” Agent Hernandez moved towards the voice, but Sam held her back, shaking his head. Dean charged forward though, swiping aside the plastic sheeting so he could glare at the demon with all his might. 

  “So we have it all figured out, huh? Guess we don’t need you around anymore then, huh?”

  Dean drew his knife and moved forward, but a hand reached out and stopped him. He could already tell who it was without turning around.

  “Let me go, Murdock. Or Az, whoever.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You can’t kill him. There’s still a person in there.”

  Dean shook Matt’s hand off - or rather, Matt let him go - and turned around to look him in the eye. Then remembered he couldn’t really look them in the eye, but still stared them down as hard as he could and hoped they sensed it with whatever weirdo superpowers they had.

  “Fine. But get your asses out of here so we can send that thing back where it belongs.”

  “Or -” Cas stepped forward, “I could take care of it.”

  Cas stepped toward the demon, who hissed and cursed and spat, and calmly raised two fingers to its forehead. There was a flash of light, then the former demon slumped unconscious in the chair, now completely human. Cas turned towards them all with that calm, squinty-eyed look Dean had missed, and addressed them.

  “We can’t rely on whatever human agencies are coming to help us. We have to take care of Evangeline now, before she hurts anyone else in this city.”

  “We need a plan,” Claire said, joining their circle. “We’ve all been running around like chickens with our heads cut off. Keeping secrets, not communicating, not trusting each other. If this is as bad as y’all are making it out to be, then we need to work together.”

  Agent Hernandez heaved a sigh, then spoke with great reluctance, every word fighting to get past her frown, “There are more guns back at the antique shop. Even if this Evangeline character blew it up, they should have survived the blast. We’re going to have to move fast to get them, though. SHIELD will be here soon, and they’re not just gonna let some strangers waltz off with their tech.”

  “But you’re going to?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah, it looks like I am. I don’t trust any of you, but if the city is in danger it’s my job to protect it. I’m not going to let protocol get in the way of saving lives.”

  A beaming smile stretched that belonged to Az stretched across Matt’s face, “Hey, maybe you’re not so bad after all!”

  Hernandez glared back, not that Matt or Az could tell. 

  “So...what’s our move?” Karen had crossed her arms, eyes flicking expectantly between them.

  Sam stepped up, “Cas is right - she has to have runes placed somewhere throughout the city - like the ones we found on the side of that warehouse. We need to find them and deactivate them.”

  “How?” Foggy asked.

  “It’s pretty simple, just marking them out in the right places with paint. Finding them’s the hard part.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be much help there,” Matt said.

  “That’s fine - we’ll need you for the other part. We need to raid Evangeline’s warehouse and rescue the hostages.”

  Everyone got a little quiet, and Sam wore a pleading expression. “We can do this. We’ve got Agent Hernandez’s guns. We have Cas. We have a demon - and Cas and Az have been there. They can guide us through.”

  “Okay. Okay. Where would these runes be? Just on the side of buildings? Walls?” Foggy asked.

  “Yeah, probably. Any flat surface, somewhere where it wouldn’t be washed away or cleaned.”

  “I know Hell’s Kitchen like the back of my hand - I can find some graffiti. I just need to know what to look for.”

  Sam and the others continued to plan, and Dean found his attention wandering. Cas was standing next to him, listening intently, lips parted slightly and eyebrows scrunched together. Then suddenly he frowned and reached into his pocket hesitantly, pulling out an unfamiliar phone a second later. He studied it for a moment before Sam noticed. 

  “What’s that?”

  “I just found it in my pocket.”

  “A phone?” Dean asked.

  Matt’s face lit up, “Oh! That’s uh...earlier, before the base blew up - I snatched that from one of Bouvois’ demon goons. I thought I could call someone on it but I couldn’t get in.”

  “Wait - you’re telling me this belongs to one of Evangeline’s demons?”   
Karen looked alarmed, “Could they trace it here? Earlier you said -”

  “Smash it or something!” Foggy exclaimed.

  “Hold up. We can disable tracking on it - but if really belongs to the enemy, there might be important information on it.” Hernandez said. “I can get in there if someone has a laptop. Just turn it off for now.”

  Cas fumbled with it a moment before Sam took it and powered down the phone. 

  “The way I see it, we’re on a ticking clock, and we have no idea when it’s going to hit zero. We need to stop talking, and start moving. I want this one with me.” Hernandez pointed at Matt. “We’ll go get the guns. Who knows how to deactivate these sigils?”

  “Uh..” Dean, Sam, and Cas slowly raised their hands. Dean felt like a first grader in class, and Hernandez was their teacher. She nodded.

  “You, Foggy, take one of these boys and whoever else you need to find these sigils and get rid of them.”

  “I can go,” Sam said, “Dean and Cas, go with Matt and Az.”

  “I can be on rune duty, I guess,” Claire said with a sigh, as if hardly believing the words coming from her mouth, “But I need to make sure these people are alright first.” She gestured to the two unconscious recently-exorcised people laying on the floor. 

  “Drop them off at a hospital. We need all hands on deck,” Hernandez ordered, earning a indignant expression from Claire. Hernandez didn’t even pause.

  “And as for you two,” she turned towards Dean and Cas, “I don’t need both of you. You’re the only fighters - one of you needs to go with Sam and Foggy and the others, to cover them in case something happens.”

  “Cas, go with them. We already have Az - they’ll need a heavy-hitter if things go bad,” Dean said, trying not to sound too reluctant. Tactically, it made sense. But he didn’t necessarily want to think tactically at the moment. Which would just slow him down. He needed Cas away from him, even if that’s not what he wanted.

  Cas scrunched his eyebrows that made Dean feel a twinge of guilt, but he held firm.

  “Alright,” Cas said, stepping towards the others. 

  Hernandez nodded, “Okay. Everyone get everyone’s contacts. We need to stay in communication the entire time. If you run into the enemy, or if SHIELD arrives, let me know. Let everyone know,” she corrected herself. No one argued, though Dean could tell just from a quick glance that not everyone agreed with that plan. But Hernandez was right about one thing - they were running out of time to debate any longer. 

  “When we have the guns, we’ll meet up...we’ll decide the location later.”

  And so they split up. Cas flew the exorcised dude and chick to a hospital and was back in the blink of an eye. Sam and Dean gave everyone a run-down on how to fight a demon, or whatever they might run across, and then they were off. 

  Matt stood between Dean and Hernandez, put a hand on each of their shoulders, and then suddenly they were no longer standing in the abandoned building, but across the street from a smoldering antique shop. Thick black plumes of smoke were coiling into the air, the smell of ash and smoke filling the air. A crowd had gathered around, standing behind yellow police tape and peering curiously into the dark entrance of the shop, where an Escalade was now lodged. Police and firemen were crawling all over the scene, but there wasn’t any signs of any agents. 

  Hernandez seemed perplexed by this, “I don’t get why SHIELD isn’t here yet.”

  “Didn’t Evangeline blow your comms?” Dean asked.

  “Yeah, but even still. Something like this happens at a SHIELD base, we would know.”

  Matt had his head cocked in that way Dean knew meant he was listening in on something none of them could hear.

  “What you got, wonder boy?”

  Matt ignored Dean’s nickname, instead furrowing his brow, “I’m not sure. I don’t think you’re the only one having trouble with your comms.”

  “What do you mean?” Hernandez asked.

  “The police are trying to call for backup, but none of them can get a signal.”

  Matt listened for a moment longer, then his expression shifted slightly.

  “I don’t think anyone’s going to be getting help from outside Hell’s Kitchen.”

  “Can you stop being cryptic for two seconds and tell us what the hell is going on?”

  “I think Bouvois’ plan is already in motion. I think she’s cut off communication in and out of Hell’s Kitchen.”

   “How could she do that?” Hernandez asked, incredulous.

  Matt, or maybe it was Az, shrugged. “I dunno. Magic.”

  As if on cue, a deep, bass thrum shuddered through the city, causing everyone to look up in alarm. Another thrum, and then all around them the power went out. It was still daylight, but all the lights in the surrounding buildings, the traffic lights, the alarms going off in the neighboring buildings across the street, all cut off at once. 

  “Well damn,” Dean sighed.

  “Is this Bouvois?” Hernandez asked.

  “I would guess - yes.” Matt said.

  Hernandez cursed under her breath, “Then this is happening. We need to move.”

  “Where to?” Az said, placing their hands on Dean and Hernandez’ shoulders again.

  “There’s a basement level beneath the shop. The police shouldn’t have been able to get in. Just take us there, then I’ll guide us the rest of the way.”

  Dean felt the now familiar surge of magic, then they were no longer on the street, but standing in complete darkness.

  “Well shit,” Dean said.

  “Great,” Hernandez sighed.

  “What?” Matt asked. 

  “The power’s out, it’s completely dark,” Hernandez explained.

  “I can’t see a thing,” Dean muttered.

  “Oh no, how terrible,” Matt said, and Dean could tell he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Look, smartass -” Dean began, but Hernandez shushed them. She retrieved a tiny flashlight from...somewhere. A secret agent belt, or maybe a hidden compartment in her shoe, Dean had no idea. But he could see again, which was nice. They were standing on smooth tile floor, and there were what looked like office cubicles from the future against one wall, and a bunch of dead monitors against the other wall.

  “Follow me,” Hernandez said, and they started making their way further into the pitch-dark base. Dean was fine walking in silence, but Hernandez seemed to want to make conversation.

  “So...you’re a hunter. You kill ghosts and vampires and things that go bump in the night.”

  Dean grunted, “Pretty much.”

  “I’m surprised we haven’t heard of people like you before. Or the things you hunt.”

  “We try to keep a low profile.”

  “Why? It sounds like a tough gig. With the way our world is today, you could be above board. SHIELD could -”

  “Uh, no thanks. Listen lady, you seem like you know what you’re doing. But you don’t know half of what I do. This little emergency happening right now? Gateways to hell? Demons? This is just basics. Honestly, the more people know about this stuff, the more dangerous the monsters become.”

  “But we’re not just people. We’re -”

  “SHIELD. Yeah, I know. There’s a big difference between your superheroes and aliens and what we do. Let’s-”

  “Is there though?” Matt, or Az, said. 

  “Uh, yeah.” Dean said, already past tired of this conversation.

  “Evangeline put a spell on those men a few days ago that allowed her to control their actions, their minds. That’s the same thing Kilgrave did.”

  Dean had heard of Kilgrave, the psycho mutant villain who could mind control people. It was a big deal a while back. He and Sam had debated over whether or not to get involved, unsure of his power was of supernatural origin or not. 

  “Demons and angels have super strength, like Captain America.”

  “Ha,” Dean barked, “Not the same.”

  “But similar. And Thor, a figure of mythology, is now involved with the Avengers. Technology from his world is effective against demons. It seems like -”

  “It seems like nothing,” Dean growled, shutting Matt up. He knew the guy had a point, but it’s not one he wanted to deal with right now.

  “What about you? What’s your story?” Hernandez asked, turning her attention towards Matt, and away from Dean, thankfully. Dean snorted when Matt didn’t answer, now the one unwilling to talk. 

  “You’re possessed, right?”

  “You could say that,” Matt said, and Dean snorted again.

  “And you’re blind,” Hernandez stated again. 

  “Yes,” Matt answered curtly.

  “But you don’t seem to have any problem getting around - is that because of the demon?”

  Matt didn’t answer. 

  Dean felt a little sorry for the guy - for all the shit Dean gave him, Matt had been dragged into this mess unwillingly, as well. He didn’t want to get involved with SHIELD, either. And this lady was about to drag all his secrets out of him. Even though she hadn’t been around them long, it wouldn’t take her long to put it all together and figure out who Matt was. Then again, if they were going to be fighting together to take down Evangeline, it was probably going to come out one way or another. 

  But for now, Dean stepped in. 

  “You seem to be asking a lot of questions - we don’t even know your name.”

  “That’s not pertinent -”

  “Then neither are questions about how the blind guy can get around. Or why my brother and I aren’t wearing spandex and working for your company.”

  Hernandez got quiet, and Dean fell back into step at the rear of the group, comfortable in the silence. He saw Matt turn his head towards him, and maybe smile, but he couldn’t really tell in the low light. He didn’t seem bothered by Dean’s lack of reaction, though, and just turned back ahead and kept walking. They reached a stairwell and went down two more levels before they finally reached the room where the guns were stored. 

  “It’s just here,” Hernandez said, tugging the door open. 

  Inside, from what little Dean could see, it looked like a laboratory. There was heavy machinery behind protective glass walls, tables with parts spread out and blueprints scrawled on large sheets, and long lab tables with various beakers and flasks filled with faintly glowing substances.  There were several opaque crates stacked against one wall, all emitting a faint blue light. Hernandez made a beeline to these crates and cracked them open, revealing rows of neatly packed guns that looked like they belonged in Star Trek. Dean eagerly reached for one, but Hernandez put a hand on his chest.

  “These are prototypes. We need to be careful. They’re fairly volatile.”

  Matt stiffened, and Dean couldn’t help but agree.

  “Volatile? Like - how volatile?”

  “They would be stable enough, as long as you don’t toss one into an active fire or the middle of an explosion. Or hit it too hard.”

  Dean gulped, “Uh, I might just stick with the old fashion demon-killing methods.”

  “I’m not sure the old-fashioned methods will work on her monsters. Remember the thing we saw in the warehouse?”

  Dean shivered a little bit in memory at the grotesque abomination they had encountered. A poor attempt at a hand-crafted demon, made from human souls. It made him sick.

  “You think these things will work, though?”

  “I hope so. Because there’s one upstairs.”

  Dean froze, his heart beginning to pound. He knew Matt heard it, and he wished he could force himself to be calm, but it didn’t seem to be working. 

  “Come again?”

  “It just came out of nowhere. It’s wandering around the first level.”

  “What are you talking about?” Hernandez asked.

  “Evangeline, the witch, she’s made these...monsters. Very dangerous, very hard to kill. They don’t talk or reason, they just want to kill and destroy.”

  “And there’s one upstairs?” she hissed, voice dropping to a whisper, “How do you know?”

  “I can sense it. It doesn’t know we’re here, but we need to take it out before it hurts anyone.”   
  Dean cursed, then turned back towards Hernandez, “You going to give me one of those guns or what?”

  Hernandez let out a heavy breath, then took three guns out and handed them to Dean and Matt.

  “Be careful. And...can you shoot?” she asked Matt, raising an eyebrow.

  “We can fucking shoot, give us a gun,” Az said, catching Hernandez by surprise. 

  “Yeah, they do that,” Dean said, examining his weapon. “How do you shoot this thing?”

  Hernandez gave them a rundown of the weapon, actually guiding Matt’s hands over the mechanics to make sure he knew what she was talking about. 

  “Alright, let’s do this,” Dean said, hefting his gun and feeling very much like a ghost buster. 

  “You ready?” Matt asked, assuming his usual pre-teleportation stance.

  Hernandez nodded, “Let’s go.”

  Then they were back on the first level of the basement. It was still dark as fuck. Thankfully the light from their weapons illuminated the immediate area, but all Dean could see was the cubicles and dead tvs. Up above, he could hear some faint murmurings and thuds of the firemen still investigating, supposedly. The smell of smoke was drifting down into the basement, and the air seemed a little hazier than it had been when they first arrived.

  “It still here?” Dean whispered.

  Matt opened his mouth to answer, and then there it was. An amalgamous mass of black, fluid like mist but slick and heavy like oil or tar, filling Dean instantly with a sense of dread and terror. 

  Hernandez took a stuttering step back, then braced herself and lifted her gun. 

  “Alright team. Let's go.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a fight, mostly

_   What’s our play?  _ Azirale was already strategizing, a couple of different plans forming briefly in their mind. At first, it had taken a moment to adjust to someone else’s thoughts flowing through his brain again. But now they were in perfect sync as they lunged to the right, drawing the thing’s attention as Dean aimed and blasted. 

  Matt felt the crackle of energy and ozone in the air as the gun was fired, heard the monster’s screech as the beam made contact. It shattered - or rather, it splattered - into little pieces. The smaller bits evaporated, but the main body of the monster grouped itself back together, still keening. When it blasted apart, a horrid smell like waste and decay and rotting bodies and sewer contents washed over them, making everyone stumble away and cough.

  “What the hell!” Hernandez coughed, “What is this?”

  “Poor attempt at a homebrew demon,” Dean answered, aiming his gun again. 

  Matt leveled their gun as well, a little uncertain about using it. Az filled in where Matt’s confidence lacked, holding the weapon steady. But before anyone could get off another shot, the thing moved. Fast. It was shrieking and flying through the air - towards Dean and Hernandez. 

  Az pulled the trigger, and Matt’s hands tingled with the energy this gun was putting out. He felt the heat of the beam, the low electrical humming sound it produced. Then he heard the monster shriek again. The beam dissipated, and he realized the monster was on the ground. He wasn’t really sure how, since it wasn’t entirely corporeal, but it seemed to have melted into a puddle of goo. There were burbling, rasping sounds as it tried to pull itself together, but Dean stepped forward, something in his hand. The knife. Shrouded in magic and giving Matt chills. He stabbed it into the thing on the ground, and with one last keening cry it vanished. 

  Dean let out a low whistle, “Damn. These babies sure do pack a punch.” 

  Matt had to agree. Two shots, and they had taken out the monster that had almost done them in at the warehouse. 

  “What are these made of again?” Az asked.

  “Asgardian tech,” Hernandez answered, breathless. Her heart was pounding.

  “Remind me never to go to Asgard,” Az said, pulling a frown.

  “This Bouvois person made this thing? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Well, you’ll see a lot worse unless we stop her.”

  Hernandez nodded, heartbeat slowing to something steady and determined. 

  “Okay boys. Let’s get the rest of the guns and meet up with the others. If...everything is okay up top?”

  Matt cocked his head, listening for a moment. 

_   What the hell is going on up there? _

  It took them a moment to decipher what they were hearing. Screams. Gunshots. Pounding feet. The police were shooting at something...oh. 

_   Shit. _

  “There’s more. I don’t know how many. Bouvois must have released them on the city. Or maybe she’s trying to find us.”

  “There’s another one?” Dean groaned.

  “Any sign of SHIELD?” Hernandez asked. Thankfully, her questions about how Matt knew what he did had stopped.

  “No. None,” Matt answered.

  Hernandez sighed, hands on her hips. Then she nodded to herself.

  “Okay. We got this. Let’s go. We’ll come back for the guns.”

  Then she grabbed Matt’s shoulder and Dean grabbed his arm. This was becoming strangely routine. But Matt went along with it and took them back to the street, where everything was chaos. The monster had possessed one of the officers, who had attacked several of the other cops. They were shooting at it without much success. It lunged forward, roaring, muscles jerking and fingers clawing unnaturally, a parody of human movement that was surprisingly fast. 

  It grabbed an officer and started to bite into her neck, like some sort of animal. She screamed, then Dean fired his gun. The beam of energy arced through the air and into the dead cop’s body. It screamed, using the cop’s vocal chords but sounding far from human. And then the cop collapsed - the monster wasn’t in it anymore, though. For a moment Matt thought Dean had got it in one, but then he smelled it.

_   Watch out! _

  It was right next to them. Plunging into another officer’s body, one that was standing right next to Matt.  It clawed at him and he ducked, then came up swinging. Clocked it in the jaw, made it stumble back. Then he jumped, spinning a bit to get some momentum, and delivered a roundhouse kick to its chest. It stumbled a bit further back. 

_   We have a gun, idiot! _

  And then they were raising the gun, pointing it pretty much point blank, and firing. It was a little overwhelming, being this close - they could hear the officer and the monster screaming, the crackling blast, the burning skin and cracking bones.  But then the officer slumped to the ground, dead. The monster was gone.  It took Matt a few seconds to gather his senses, but he knew they had to get out of there. Officers were leveling their guns, shouting commands, so Matt and Az moved as one, reaching for Dean and Hernandez. They returned the gesture, grabbing onto him, and then they were back in the safety and quiet of the underground base.

  Hernandez was staring at him, or at least he guessed she was based on her posture. Then she spoke.

  “You’re the Daredevil, aren’t you?”

  Matt felt his heart clench, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Not after that display. And it wasn’t like he had had the opportunity to be particular secretive since they had met. 

_   I can just wipe her memory, no biggie. _

  Before Matt could respond to Az, Hernandez put her hand out. Open. Non-threatening. A handshake.

  “My name’s Ysanna. Ysanna Hernandez.”

  Matt blinked, then grinned and took her hand.

  “You know your costume is ridiculous.”

  “That’s what I said,” Dean muttered.

  “We could get you something better, you know. If you came to SHIELD.”

  Matt withdrew his hand, “Thanks for the offer. I’ll think about it.”

_   Yeah right.  _

  She clapped her hands, then let out a whooshing breath and put her hands on her hips.

  “Alright. Let’s go save the city.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy has an epiphany, the city falls into chaos, and everyone gets giant guns.

  Despite the feeling of impending doom hovering over the city and creeping up Foggy’s spine, their mission so far had been pretty uneventful. If you consider walking down the street of Hell’s Kitchen with an angel looking for demonic runes uneventful, that is. Which, in this case, Foggy did. He  had been a little trepidatious but eager to find out what flying was like, but Cas said it would be easier to find the runes on foot. So here they were, walking. Sam, Claire, and Karen were off at the other end of town, walking on a route they had figured out after Matt and Az blipped off with Dean and the secret agent. 

  Foggy took them towards places he thought graffiti might stay up for a while, unnoticed, and Cas would usually sense if there was magic nearby with his...holiness, or something. They had uncovered five runes so far, which Cas crossed out with spray paint before they moved on. It was slow going, and the others had only found four runes. All around them, the city carried on as normal. People hurried past, sometimes bumping into them and rarely apologizing. Taxis and sedans crept along the streets. Vendors flaunted their goods, business women made calls outside glass office buildings, dads played with their kids in the park. It was all so mundane, and all so terrifying. 

  “How many of these runes do you think there are?” Foggy asked. They were headed towards a skate park where a lot of graffiti piled up. They passed an ice cream cart, a fountain whose floor was covered in glittering pennies. Cas kept glancing uneasily about, but so far he hadn’t shouted “Demons! Run!” which was a relief to Foggy. Of course, he probably didn’t have to be nervous in the first place, considering this guy could smite demons with a touch. There was still the whole “entirety of Hell’s Kitchen getting turned into a cheap version of Hell at any minute by a megalomaniac witch” thing to be nervous about, though. 

  “There’s no telling. I wouldn’t say more than a hundred.”

  Foggy slumped, “And we’ve taken out a total of nine.”

  “We don’t have to get every single one, as long as we get enough to destroy the integrity of the magic circle.”

  “And how many is that?” 

  “That’s...harder to say.”

  “Great. Well, do you sense anything? We’re almost there.”

  Cas squinted, then opened his mouth to answer. In that moment, there was a loud sound, like the bass dropping in a song. Not particularly a sound you want to hear sweep across a city. The bass thrum vibrated up through Foggy’s feet and he instinctively moved closer to Cas, who spread a hand in his direction. Around them, everyone in the park looked up at the sky, all around, looking for the source of the sound. Parents called their children to them, keeping panic out of their voice.

  “What is th-” Foggy began, but another thrum swept across the city, and something changed, but Foggy couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

  “The power is out,” Cas said, and Foggy realized he was right. There weren’t many indicators of a power outage in the park, but some of the lights he could see were out, and the buildings in the distance seemed darkened. 

  “Why would Evangeline cut the power?” Foggy asked.

  Cas was still squinting, but he eventually answered. “It’s more than that. This is a spell. It’s started.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. It’s started? What do we do?”

  “We keep going until Dean contacts us.”

  “But, if she’s getting the party started, shouldn’t we take the fight to her?”

  Foggy stared at Cas for a moment, who still wasn’t answering. He stared, and he realized Cas didn’t know what to do. He had the same look he had seen in the courtroom, in his old classmates’ faces, hell, in Matt’s face. Scared, uncertain, and backed into a corner. 

  “You’re an angel, can’t you just...blast her? With holy light? Or fire from heaven or something?”

  “No. I’m not as powerful as you think, especially not now. And Evangeline has an army of demons behind her.”

  “So...what’s the plan, exactly? I thought you guys had this figured out!”

  “I can’t face her alone, but with Matt and Az, and Sam and Dean…”

  “You have a lot of faith in those psychos. Aren’t they just humans, like me?”

  “Yes, but they’ve faced down far greater foes and won. They defeated Lucifer himself.”

  Foggy’s mouth went dry. “Wait, like...Satan?”

  “Yes,” Cas answered. “I have faith in them.”

  Cas started walking again, and Foggy stood frozen for a moment before following. An angel, saying he had faith in a couple of random humans? All of this had sent Foggy’s worldview spinning, but that really iced the cake. He caught up to Cas and started talking again.

  “Okay, wait, wait...I get you’re in love with Dean or whatever, but I’m sorry. You really trust them to stop all this, save everyone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Including Matt?”

  “Yes.”

  Foggy caught Cas’ arm before he could consider the fact that he was kinda threatening an angel, and made eye contact.

  “Okay, because I’m trusting you guys. You have to keep Matt safe. I don’t even like the idea of him fighting criminals at night, much less facing down an evil witch and her demon army. But, I get it. The greater good, saving the city, all that. But if I think for one second this is about to go south, I’m grabbing Matt, we’re getting Karen and Claire and we’re hightailing it out of here.”

  Foggy knew it might sound like he was bluffing, and he wasn’t sure exactly how he would follow up on that promise if worst came to worst, but he would. He wasn’t about to let anything happen to anyone he cared about. If they couldn’t save the city here, he would definitely find a way to save them. 

  “We’re going to save everyone. It-”

  Just then, someone screamed. Foggy whipped around to see what had caused the commotion, only to feel the blood drain from his face. 

  Something was attacking people in the park. It was flying around the fountain - it was like a living shadow. A slimy, stinking, living shadow. He watched in horror as it chased down a middle-school girl and just...flew into her. And he recognized it - he recognized the way the inky blackness swarmed into her mouth, wracking her body with unnatural seizures. It was the same thing he had seen when that demon had escaped the devil’s trap and attacked Matt. But this didn’t look the same. And when the terrifying onslaught had stopped, and the little girl rose to her feet, it didn’t act like any demon Foggy had met. It twitched and groaned like an animal, then suddenly lunged forward, snapping its teeth. 

  “What the fuck! Is that a demon?” Foggy screeched, his voice drowned out by the panic all around them.

  Cas looked just as horrified, “No, that’s no demon.”

  And then he bolted straight towards the girl, who locked eyes on the figure charging towards her and roared. Cas met her attack with an outstretched hand, grabbing her by the face and letting out a flash of blue-white light. The girl slumped to the ground, Cas just managing to catch her before she hit the dirt. 

  Foggy sprinted towards them, heart feeling like it was going to beat out of his chest. 

  “What - what the- what just happened?”

  Cas looked up at Foggy with those blue eyes, brows creased in confusion. A crying woman stumbled to their side, reaching out for the girl. Cas passed her over, the woman calling her name out again and again. In the distance, more screams rang out from two different ends of the park.

  “What is happening?” Foggy asked again, trying to keep his voice level.

  Cas rose, dusting off his coat. “These are monsters Evangeline created - the fake demons Sam and Dean and Matt were talking about. They’re all over the city. This must be part of Evangeline’s plan.”

  “Shit! What are we going to do?”

  Just then Foggy’s phone rang. He looked at the caller ID - Matt. Thankful that Matt couldn’t hear his racing heart over the phone - or so he assumed - he answered.

  “Matt? What’s happening?”

  “Evangeline released her monsters on the city - are you okay? Are you safe?”

  “I mean, Cas just fried one no problem, but he says they’re all over the city. Please tell me these super guns are going to work on these things.”

  “Oh yeah, they work,” Az said. 

  “We already took out two with the guns - we’ll bring them to you - where are you?”

  Foggy rattled off their location, and suddenly Matt was there with some glowing contraption strapped to his back, still holding his phone against his ear.  He grinned weakly at Foggy, hanging up and walking towards them. Foggy’s heart immediately calmed when Matt arrived, even though people were still screaming in the distance and panic had settled over the city. 

  And in that moment, he realized he trusted Matt. Well, he already knew that - he always trusted Matt...kind of. Ever since finding out about Daredevil, and all the lies and stress that had come with that, the unfailing trust he had always had in Matt, his best friend, had fractured. Before Daredevil, Foggy had more than trust in Matt - he had faith. He believed in Matt the way he believed in nothing else. Wholly, joyfully, and with the unwitting, unflinching loyalty knights pledged to their kings. After Daredevil, that trust had devolved into something much smaller, and much angrier. It changed from “I know Matt won’t let me down” to “Matt better not let me down.” But now, Matt offering that weary smile as he hurried toward them in a sea of chaos, doing all he could to save the city...something clicked for Foggy. 

  This  _ was  _ Matt. Daredevil hadn’t stolen Matt away from Foggy, Daredevil was just Matt, concentrated. It was strong, and it burned like hell, but god it was  _ good _ . Matt was good. And Foggy trusted Matt. Matt would save them. Matt wouldn’t give up until this city was safe. And if Matt was going to fight, then Foggy was too. 

  “Are you okay?” Matt asked, and Foggy grinned.

  “Oh yeah, just peachy.”

  Matt’s eyebrows quirked, but he grinned a little bit before shrugging the glowing contraption off his back, which Foggy now saw was a gun. A  _ huge  _ gun.

  “Holy shit - this is Asgardian tech?”

  Matt nodded, “Yeah. Took down one of those monsters with two shots. I only brought one, cuz, well - you seem like you’re fine on your own,” Matt tilted his head towards Cas.

  Cas nodded, then caught himself. “Yes. Where’s Dean?”

  Matt - no, Az rolled their eyes. “Holy shit.” 

  Matt quickly took over again, “He’s back at the SHIELD base with Hernandez. They got into that phone the demon had on him - maybe there’s something useful on there.”

  As if on cue, all three of their phones chirped. Foggy opened the text from Dean to find a map of Hell’s Kitchen, dotted with pins. Under that was a list of addresses. 

  “What is it?” Matt asked.

  Foggy scrolled down a little further, reading the brief message Dean had typed out. Then he laughed.

  “It’s a list of locations for all the runes.”

  Matt grinned, and it was a dark smile - a Daredevil smile. Which, Foggy realized, was just a pure unadulterated Matt smile. One of many. 

  “Well, that’s helpful. Speaking of which - let me show you how to use this thing. We have to move.”

  Matt put his hands on top of Foggy’s, moving them along the gun and explaining how it operated and what switches did what. As always, Matt was a great teacher. Foggy knew it was just how Hernandez must have explained it to him earlier, but his hands-on, tactile way of explaining the gun just clicked with Foggy instantly. 

  And then, something else clicked with Foggy. It was just a good five minutes for epiphanies. Matt was a great teacher. He always had been. Whether it was how to throw a punch or the ins and outs of empirical statistics, Foggy could depend on Matt to drive home the lesson he believed no other teacher could.  And all this time, Matt had been teaching Az. Teaching them how to be human, how to be good, how to be a hero. And Matt had been telling Foggy to trust Az. Foggy hadn’t listened, because if he couldn’t trust Matt, how could he trust Az? But now...if they were going to save the city, well…

  “Hey, Az,” Foggy said, causing Matt’s face to perk up. He wasn’t sure who was surprised - Matt or Az, or maybe both of them.

  “Yeah?” Az answered.

  “I’m sorry for what I said earlier - thanks for saving this idiot.”

  A huge grin slowly stretched across Matt’s face. “Are you being nice to me?”

  “Yeah. And I’ll thank you again if you manage to save this stupid city without getting killed.”

  “Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen to Matt.”

  “I know that. But don’t get yourself killed either.”

  Az just looked stunned for a moment, then melted into Matt’s calmer expression.

  “You’re being pretty mushy.”

  “Well, we all might die, so it seemed like a good time.”

  Matt smiled, put a hand on Foggy’s shoulder, then stepped away.

  “I have to go - we’re giving guns to Sam and the others, then Ysanne’s going to give the rest to the police. I’m sure you’ve already noticed, but Hell’s Kitchen is completely cut off from the outside world. I’m not sure exactly how she’s doing it, but - we have to hurry.”

  “Ysanne?” Cas asked.

  “Hernandez. That’s her name.” Matt’s head tilted away from them, towards something Foggy couldn’t hear. “I have to go. As soon as we get these guns out, it’ll be time. You ready?”

  Cas nodded, “Yes. It’s going to be dangerous.”

  “No duh, dipshit. Let’s go,” Az said, and suddenly Matt was gone.

  Foggy was alone with an angel again, but this time he had a giant, glowing, alien gun stolen from a SHIELD lab in his hands. And a renewed faith. 

  “It will be faster if you take care of the runes by yourself, right? You can just fly there.” Foggy said.

  Cas hesitated, “Yes. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “Then go. I have some wanna-be demons to take care of.”

  He pumped the gun like Matt had showed him, and it started emitting a quiet whine, the blue light shining a little bit brighter. Cas nodded.

  “Be safe.”

  “No promises,” Foggy said, then started jogging towards the screams and mayhem that sounded closest. He heard a flapping noise and looked behind him to find Cas had already gone. 

  He was on his own. 

  It was his turn to be a hero.

 

____________________________________________

 

  Claire had the shotgun filled with salt rounds cocked against her shoulder, Karen beside her with the handgun. Sam was in front with another shotgun, slowly backing up.  The  _ thing _ was in front of them, growling and bleeding and eyes swimming with black. There was a small crowd of people gathered behind them - everyone else had fled or been killed already.  And it looked like they were about to be next, because salt rounds were not working on this motherfucker. 

  Sam turned his head slightly, still keeping his eyes locked on the monster. 

  “I’ll hold it off. Take the civilians and run.”

  “Great plan. Spread out the dying.”   
  “Claire…”

  She sighed, “Okay, okay. But don’t do something stupid like sacrifice yourself. You better run as soon as you have the chance.”

  “You got it. Ready?”

  He took a step forward, but suddenly a voice came from behind the monster.

  “HELLOO, HELL’S KITCHEN!”

  Karen’s brow scrunched, “Matt?”

  The monster spun around, and Claire caught a glimpse of Matt standing behind it, legs apart, and two monstrous glowing guns that looked like they belonged in a video game in each hand. Then in the next second, a blinding blue light flashed, and she turned away, squeezing her eyes shut. The whole air buzzed, charged with whatever the flash of light was. It felt like lightning was striking a few feet away. Then in the next second, the light was gone, and the monster was laying still on the ground. Its vessel was charred and smoking slightly, but it was definitely not moving. 

  “M - Az?” Sam called out, catching himself before calling out Matt’s name in front of all the strangers that were hiding behind them in terror.

  “Right here, one-person rescue squad at your service. Or two person, depending on how you look at it,” Az answered, bouncing up to them with a smug grin on their face. 

  “Hey, how about keeping a low profile in front of all these people, rescue squad?” Claire hissed.

  “Oh, sorry. But hey - I did just save all of you.”

  “Are these the guns?” Sam asked, eyeing the glowing blue canons Az was holding.

  Matt answered. “Yeah. Two shots from these, and those things are done for.”

  “What about the vessel?” Claire asked, keeping her voice low and eyeing the charred husk laying in the street. The people behind them were murmuring, crying, getting restless. And that body was laying in plain view of all of them. 

  “Well...I don’t think these things are like demons. When they possess someone, they take over completely. There’s nothing of that person left. It’s like they’re killed instantly. There’s no one left to save inside.”

  Claire felt the blood drain from her face, “Damn…”

  Az’s bravado quickly fading away, Matt hustled them into a corner, trying to get out of sight. They were on some little side street with a hole-in-the-wall cafe and some auto-repair shop. There wasn’t a lot of people around, but she could still hear screams streets over. 

  “Evangeline released a small army of these things on the city. Hernandez and Dean are getting guns to the police - they’ll have to handle the monsters. We have to move on Evangeline before this gets worse.”

  “What about SHIELD? She was so sure they were coming,” Karen asked.

  “Doesn’t look like that’s happening. There’s some sort of barrier around the city - no one is coming in or out. But if we take care of all these runes, that might change. Cas is taking care of that right now. Dean and Hernandez found a list of address where runes are marked on that demon’s phone.”

  “Alright - so what do we need to be doing?”  Claire asked.

  “Getting people to safety. And as soon as the barrier is down, out of the city. Cas, Dean, Sam and I are going to face Bouvois.”   
  “What about Foggy? Where is he?”

  “Other side of town. He’s armed - don’t worry.”

  “Don’t worry?” Karen hissed, “How can you tell us not to worry? You left him alone, with a monster? What were you thinking?”

  Matt winced, “I-”

  “And how can we trust you at all? You lied to us, Matt! And you’re - you’re fucking possessed, okay?” her voice dropped to a whisper, but none of the fury left. “And now you’re going off alone to face some demon witch lady? God, I don’t even - what is going on here?”

  “Karen…” Matt began, but she held up her hand, shaking her head. However, not noticing, he went on, “I never meant to lie, I just-”

  Then she started laughing. A few tears mixed in between the rasping breaths. Matt trailed off, uncertain. 

  “Sorry. I...I was shaking my head. But of course you didn’t see that.”

  Claire and Sam exchanged glances, trapped in the middle of a conversation not meant for them. 

  “Matt, I care about you. You know that, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you care about me?”

  He reached for her, “Karen, of course. I know I might not be the best at showing that, but…”

  “Yeah, you’re not great at it. That’s something you can improve on, after all this. And you have a  _ lot  _ of explaining to do. God, this is fucking crazy.”

  A particularly loud scream rang out from somewhere nearby, and Sam shifted on his feet.

  “Hey guys, this might not be the best time…”

  “I know, I’m sorry. Show me how these things work, and then we’ll save the world, I guess.”

  With great relief, Matt slung the guns off his back and explained the workings to them. Claire felt the weight of the gun in her arms, which was considerably less than she thought it would be, considering its size. It felt a lot more reassuring than the sawed-off shotgun she had been toting a moment ago.

  “Alright, what now? Where’s a safe place we can go?” Claire asked, already brainstorming. For now, a hospital would be ideal. But in this situation, would a church be better?

  “Somewhere on the edge of town. And - you said Cas was taking care of the runes, right?” Sam said. Matt nodded. “Okay, then take the paint. I’m sending you some pictures - wherever you take shelter, paint these on the outside of the building. It might keep the monsters away.”

  “Might?” Claire raised an eyebrow. 

  “Might. It will definitely keep demons away, though.”

  Her phone buzzed as several pictures were text to her. She opened them up and saw some symbols and runes drawn on what looked like the page of an old journal. 

  “You should feel it when the barrier comes down - as soon as it does, get out of town.”

  She nodded, “What about you guys? Will you be alright?”

  “We’ll be fine,” Sam smiled, and anyone else might have fallen for it. But Claire had perfected the art of seeing through bullshit. He had no clue how this was going to turn out. But for his sake, she played along.

  “Good. Keep us updated. And get back safe.” She put a hand on Matt’s shoulder, “That goes for all of you.”

  He nodded. “Find Foggy and Hernandez. They’ll help. And who knows - maybe SHIELD will turn up after all.”

  “Then it will really be a party,” Claire said.

  She pulled Matt into one last, quick hug. Then he stepped back, grabbed Sam’s arm, and they vanished. Karen gasped a little. Claire just looked at where they had been, and hoped that wasn’t the last time she saw them. 

  Taking a deep breath, she turned to Karen.

  “Let’s get going. We have to get these people to safety.”

  They both turned towards the small crowd of people that were all waiting on them, frightened, confused. A block away, voices screamed in terror, and something roared. A plume of smoke was rising from somewhere in the city. But there were no sirens, no rushing cars, nothing. It was disturbingly quiet. 

  She hefted the gun in her hand, and Karen did the same.

  “Okay, people! Stick close - we’re getting out of here!”

  And she stepped out into the street, looking both ways for monsters before crossing. 

  So much for this supernatural nonsense being done with quickly.   
  



	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandatory Big Battle starts. Sam and Dean get in some hot water, Claire and friends save the freakin' city, and your favorite Angel/Demon team-up makes a reprise. (plus a lawyer in a costume)

  Az wasn’t sure if the nervous jitters were coming from them or from Matt, but wherever their source Matt’s body could not stay still. Leaning on the SHIELD agents’ desks, fiddling with the pens and gadgets left out, pinging stuff across the quiet office into a trash bin against the opposite wall. Cas was explaining the layout of the warehouse to Sam and Dean, since he had gotten a better look at it than Az had. Az’s memories of the warehouse were disjointed at best, panic-inducing at worst. 

  Someone lightly jabbed them in the ribs and they jerked violently before realizing it was just Hernandez. Ysanne. It was strange how friendly she was being after realizing Matt was Daredevil. Az and Matt had been worried she was going to use it against him initially, but gradually came to realize she didn’t have any ill intentions. She was just genuinely a fan of Daredevil. And she really wanted him to join SHIELD. Wanted  _ them  _ to join SHIELD. She had made it quite clear Az would be a valued member of the team.  It was a new feeling for both of them. Matt was not used to people taking the revelation of his identity gratefully, and Az was not used to anyone taking his existence well at all.

  “You seem nervous.”

  “Just ready to get this over with,” Matt answered, and Az realized that was the truth. Matt didn’t seem especially anxious or scared. He had a mission, and was ready to do whatever it took to get it done. Huh. So that meant the nervous jitters were coming from Az. 

  Maybe because they weren’t ready for this to be over with. Because after this was over...it was unknown. They had no clue what they were going to do after this. That, and they had a sinking feeling they might not make it through this.

_   Don’t think like that. You can’t go into a fight expecting to lose. _

  Az rolled their eyes.  _ Thanks for that. Everything’s better now. I feel great. _

  Matt huffed.  _ We’re not going to lose. After that...we’ll figure it out. Trust me.  _

_   Okay. Okay.  _ “Can we hurry up and get this done before there’s nothing left of the city to save?”

  Cas trailed off, and everyone’s faces turned towards them. 

  “They’re right,” Ysanne said. “We need to get this show on the road. Cas - you said you took care of all the runes, right? I’ll meet up with the others, we’ll get everyone out of town. You five, do what you have to do. Stay in contact if you can. If SHIELD shows up -”

  “Keep them out of our way,” Dean interrupted. “We got this. They’ll only get in the way.”

  “Just like I got in the way, huh?” she hefted her gun, the low hum it constantly emitted gearing up for a moment.

  “Just tell them to keep everyone safe, focus on the monsters. We’ll take care of Bouvois.” Sam said. 

  “Whatever, big man,” she said, then took a few steps towards the door. 

  “Wait, Ysanne,” Matt called out. “Meet up with Foggy first if you can. I left him alone.”

  She nodded, then spoke aloud. “You got it. See you guys on the other side.”

  And then with a few jogging steps, she was gone.

  Dean took a step towards Matt, drawing their little circle close. 

  “Everyone good on the plan? You guys, make a show. We’ll get everyone out. Then we’ll handle Bouvois together.”

  Matt and Az nodded, then reached out and grabbed Sam and Dean by a shoulder each. On the other side, Cas grabbed their free shoulders so they were forming a little huddle. Then in an instant they were gone from the secret SHIELD base and standing in a familiar room. They were just outside the jail cell where Az and Cas had been imprisoned. Drop Sam and Dean off, and then leave. That was the plan. But Cas let his hands linger on the brothers’ shoulders for a moment.

  “You got this.”

  “Yeah, Cas.” Sam said. Dean didn’t say anything. Az was willing to bet a large fortune that some intense eye contact was happening, though. 

  Then Cas released the brothers, and together they teleported into the main entrance of the warehouse. Last time they had been here, Matt’s soul had been ripped out of his body, and Az had been left disoriented and afraid. 

_   You good? _ Matt asked. 

_   Yeah. Are you good? _

  Some unpleasant - okay, fuck that - some horrifying memories flickered into their consciousness for a moment before Matt buried them again. It might have been Bouvois’ cheap imitation, but Matt had still gone to hell. They hadn’t really talked about that yet.

_   And now isn’t the time,  _ Matt said. 

  It really wasn’t, but Az was having some trouble keeping their own thoughts in line. Luckily, they had Matt here to help with that. Focusing on what needed to be focused on. Like the layout of the room, and the rooms beyond that. The demons that were flooding into the chamber, lining the balconies like orcs from Lord of the Rings. 

_   Nerd,  _ Matt thought with amusement. 

_   You won’t be thinking that when I go Legolas on their asses.  _

  A frown tweaked Matt’s face.  _ I thought Aragorn was supposed to be the cool fighter? _

_   Depends, I guess.  _ Az answered, feeling their emotions calm with their banter. As well as the fight looming over them. They were melting into each other, two separate souls distilled down to pure fighting instinct. There wasn’t any room for existential crisis or worries. It was all choreographing their movements, mapping their opponents, carrying out one attack, then the next, then the next, then the next. 

  Together, they raised their fist. 

  Beside them, Cas spoke low and quiet. 

  “Remember, make it flashy.”

  “Can do, boss,” Matt and Az said, and a grin split their face.

 

* * *

  Claire charged up her gun again, and felt the weapon groan to life. The quick hum and bright glow was gone - whatever was powering this thing was almost gone. When Matt first dropped the guns off, she had been firing off consecutive blasts without a problem. Now it took a few seconds to charge up between discharges. A few seconds wasn’t a long time in most circumstances. But when demonic monsters were charging at you, a few seconds could mean life or death. 

  Like right now, for instance. She blasted a possessed guy in a fancy suit and he went down, but another person was racing towards her. They were obviously possessed, crawling on all fours like an insect, screeching like a pterodactyl. The group she was guiding to safety screamed and took off running, but she stood her ground. The gun was heavy in her arms, slowly winding back up for another shot. 

  “Claire!” Karen screamed somewhere behind her. Claire didn’t have the energy to look back. She was so tired. She just stared at the monster coming at her, biting her lip and willing the gun to work faster. 

  Then out of nowhere, a blue flash arced from her right, cutting through the air and plunging into the monster who screeched and went limp. She let out a sigh of relief, sagging a little as she realized she wasn’t going to die. Not right this moment, anyway. Someone caught her, holding her up and taking some of her weight. 

  “You okay?”

  “Foggy. I could ask you the same thing,” she said, huffing out a laugh. Foggy took a little more of her weight, shifting so he had a better grip on her waist. His hair was dark with sweat, blood from a cut on his cheek trailing down his face and smearing across his neck. 

  “Thanks for the save,” she said.

  “As much as I want to take credit for that and be the action hero I always dreamed of - you can thank her for that.”

  Claire looked up to see Hernandez walking towards them, more frightened civilians trailing in her wake. Unlike the rest of them, Hernandez looked in her element. A little bloody, sweaty, dirty, yeah - but she made it look good. 

  “How does she look so cool right now?” Claire breathed out, brow scrunching.

  “I have no idea. But she’s been kicking ass. Now take us to this safehouse of yours. I don’t know how much longer we can last out here.”   
Claire nodded, taking a deep breath and finally standing on her own. “This way.”

  She had only taken one step before Karen was on top of them, crashing into them with a hug.

  “Don’t do that again, Claire! You had me scared.”

  Claire laughed, “Sorry.”

  “And you,” Karen took a step back and locked eyes with Foggy. “I was really worried.”

  “About me? I’m an action hero, Karen. Nothing can touch me.”

  “I can’t believe Matt left you alone.”

  Foggy frowned, but before he could reply Hernandez was marching past them.

  “Keep up, agents. We’re not in the clear yet.”

  And then she was gone, speeding ahead like she was on a pleasant early morning jog instead of in the middle of the apocalypse. Foggy, Karen, and Claire stared after her for a moment. 

  “How does she do it?” Karen asked. 

  “She knows we’re not agents, right?” Claire said.

  Foggy shook his head, “Don’t bother. I think she’s in default mode or something. She’s been calling me agent this entire time. Come on.”

  Then Foggy was gone, trailing after Hernandez like a dutiful soldier. Karen eyed Claire.

  “Are you really okay?”

  “I’m just having a really, really bad day.”

  Karen let out something between a strangled laugh and sighing sob. “Tell me about it.”

  “Let’s get back to the train station, and I will.”

  They had been gathering refugees from the city into a train station at the edge of the magical barrier, painting the warding symbols Sam had given them on the walls. Claire wasn’t the only nurse there, and several people were laid out on makeshift pallets receiving medical care. There were several police officers there, armed with guns Hernandez had distributed somehow. More officers were out scouring the streets for more citizens that needed somewhere safe to hide. So far, whatever magical mumbo-jumbo Sam had shown them seemed to working, and no monsters had made it inside. 

  But they were still trapped. Claire wondered if this is what Az and Matt had felt like inside the devil’s trap. At the edge of Hell’s Kitchen the streets began to shimmer like a mirage on a hot day, the asphalt and concrete buildings wavering like a wall of heat was washing over them. Beyond the shimmering, illusory barrier, the streets looked empty. Several people had tried walking past, but it was like walking into water, then syrup, then a wall of sand. It eventually got to a point where you couldn’t progress any further, then you were pushed backwards, sometimes violently. 

  Hernandez would have been the last to be in contact with Matt and Az or Sam and Dean. Maybe she had some information that would help them out. However, at the moment she seemed a little too busy to talk.  Several officers had gathered around her, asking questions of their own. Claire, Karen, and Foggy hung back and watched as Hernandez barked out some orders, pointing severely and staring down any officer that dared challenge her. 

  “I’m really glad she decided to be on our side,” Claire said, watching several officers skitter away with frightened looks on their faces. Finally, Hernandez was left alone for a moment and came to join them. Foggy handed her a water bottle.

  “Sorry about that. They know I’m SHIELD, and I kind of took charge. They want answers. I’m not sure what to tell them right now.”

  “We were kind of wanting answers, too, actually,” Karen said. “What’s going on? Shouldn’t the barrier be down by now?”

  Hernandez looked worried. “Last time I talked to Castiel, he said he had destroyed all the runes. I don’t know why this magical barrier hasn’t come down yet. I don’t know anything about this type of magic, really. And none of you do either, am I right?”

  They all shook their heads.

  Hernandez bit her lip. “I don’t like this.”

  “No kidding,” Foggy said.

  “We’re completely cut off. We have to assume no one’s coming in from the outside. The others should be in the warehouse by now. For now...we just wait.”

  Karen shifted, furrowing her eyebrows.

  “We just..wait? And do nothing?”

  “Unless you have a plan?”

  Karen didn’t say anything, but the determined expression didn’t leave her face. Claire made eye contact with Foggy behind her back, who raised his eyebrows. Claire sighed, sinking to the floor and taking a long swig from her own water bottle. Karen might not have a plan right now, but Claire had the feeling there was no way this group would sit and do nothing for very long.

 

* * *

  Matt’s hands were dripping with blood. He was slick with it. Everything in the room was. It was overpowering his senses slightly. Behind them, the room was filled with bodies - broken, bruised, and bleeding, but still breathing. His heart was racing, but not with exhaustion. Exhilaration. Thank god for Az’s demon strength, or else he wouldn’t still be standing. 

_   Thank god for demons, huh? Bet that’s a sentence you never thought you’d say.  _

  Matt rolled his shoulders, stretching a little bit. 

_   True. Especially when an angel is standing next to me.  _

  Said angel was also spattered with blood, a short blade that hummed with energy clutched in his hand. He had managed to smite several demons, meaning there were several confused, innocent, injured people writhing in the room behind them, but Matt tried not to think about that. They weren’t nearly done. 

  “Ready?” Cas said, voice more gravelly than usual. 

  “Let’s rock and roll,” Az answered.

  “I can’t believe you just said that,” Matt said. 

  Cas answered solemnly. “Let’s rock and roll, then.”

  Matt sighed, popped his neck, then started ahead with Cas. They had made it upstairs and opened a door that would normally lead to a small office. Evangeline had used some sort of magic to fit a short corridor with doors to either side into the space. Cas pointed ahead. 

  “She’s in there.”

  “The door at the other end of the hallway?”

  “Yes.”

  Az felt it, which meant Matt felt it. The wave of magical energy pushing out from the room ahead. It felt foreboding. Dangerous. Damning. 

  “Then....let’s rock and roll.” Matt sighed.

  “YES!” Az cheered. Their exclamation was cut short when several demons appeared in the room in front of them, clutching various weapons in their hands. 

  “Round two” Matt sighed, raising his hands once again. 

  The first demon started forward, a bat driven through with nails swinging from his hand. Az swept a hand to the side, and the bat went flying - directly into the gut of another demon. Cas rushed forward, grabbing the faces of two demons. The rest of the hoard averted their faces and covered their eyes, flinching away from what Matt was told was a bright light. Matt and Az took advantage of that distraction, surging forward and peppering the nearest demon with a series of punches that threw them back against the wall. Then they ducked, dodging the swinging arc of a knife aimed towards their back. 

  Cas was plunging his blade into another demon, and Matt and Az were back up, kicking off the wall to come down on the demon with a knife. It was a beautiful, violent dance.  A dance that was suddenly cut short when a siren went off. The demons stilled, backing away from Cas and Matt, heads tilting towards the sirens, then towards each other. 

  “What is that?” Az asked. 

  Suddenly, the door at the end of the hall flew open. Matt flinched, but couldn’t sense anyone in the doorway. It was like a strong wind had blown it open. But he knew better than that. 

  “GO!” a voice screamed. Instantly, the demons vanished. 

  “We have to hurry. Now.” Cas said, rushing forward. Matt followed, filled with unease. 

  Az was providing a constant chorus of  _ What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck _ as they charged into the room ahead. 

  As soon as they entered, the door slammed shut behind them. It took Matt a moment to organize the room, because every inch of the place was swimming with magic. It made him lightheaded, disoriented. Afraid. But Cas was on his right, standing strong. Az was giving him strength from within. His friends, the city was counting on him. He had to get it together. 

  The room smelled strongly of incense. It was small. A bed in the corner, surrounded by...candles. All lit. Nearby was a basin - water inside. Some books and scrolls lay scattered on the floor as well. A shelf against one wall had more scrolls and books. On the opposite wall was another shelf, this one with jars and bottles filled with unidentifiable substances filling its shelves.  Against the far wall there was a grand fireplace, seemingly much too grandiose for a room this small. It was cold, but Matt felt like he could taste fire in the air.  And then in the middle of the room was Bouvois herself. She was sitting, her back turned to them. Cross legged, hair down, smelling of sweat and blood. 

  “You...and your friends...are awfully troublesome,” she said, voice rigid. She still hadn’t risen from her seated position. 

  “This ends now, Bouvois.” Cas said. 

  “The only thing that will be ending…” she began to rise.

_   Here we go... _ Az murmured.

  “Is you!” she turned, jabbing a finger in their general direction. 

_   And there it is. Classic.  _

  Beside them, something flared up. Energy washed over them in waves, and for a moment Matt thought something had exploded. He heard what sounded like feathers rustling. Then he realized what it was - Cas. 

_   There’s the rock... _ Az said, sounding a little giddy. Matt wasn’t sure if they were actually excited for this fight, or were just freaking out. 

  “And here’s the roll,” Matt finished, deciding to play along. He felt an odd but now familiar sensation, and knew Az had just flashed their eyes black. Together, Matt and Az rushed forward and went into a front flip, launching themselves high into the air to bring a heel down on Evangeline. She raised a hand towards them, but then they were gone. Instantly they reappeared, directly behind her. Still carrying the same momentum, they slammed their heel down on the back of her neck before bouncing away. She fell to one knee. 

  Cas rushed forward as Matt fell back, slashing with his blade. He brought it down, but suddenly Bouvois wasn’t kneeling in front of him. She was standing behind him, knife in her hand. 

  “Two can play that game,” she said, voice low and strained. 

  She thrust a hand each at Cas and at Matt. They both skid back a few feet before bracing themselves against the magical attack. Matt heard the sound of giant wings flapping, and something in his ears started ringing slightly. Waves of energy rolled off Cas and he charged again. Evangeline swiped her knife along her palm, and when she brought it up to block Castiel’s blade it was no longer a knife, but a long, slender sword. Dark, heavy magic energy was washing off her as well, and Matt felt like he was lost at sea, being buffeted by invisible waves. 

_   Murdocks can take a punch, right? C’mon, show me the devil in you, Murdock.  _ Az said, and Matt felt his head clearing. He focused inward, felt the strength fortifying his bones, the blood that surged through him with every beat of his heart. He felt the magic of Az inside him, but he felt something else, too. His own magic. Just from being alive - the energy of his own soul. 

_   You’re in here with me now. You gotta feel it, too. _

_   The devil in the devil, huh? ...Yeah, I think I feel it.  _

  Matt felt it now, full force. And he felt Az feeling it, too. That old devil he had known long before Az or Daredevil ever came along. The devil his dad had known. That had haunted the Murdock boys since birth - that burning, dead-eyed determination that never let up, never let go. Once it set in, whoever was on the receiving end was damned. That devil had been smoldering inside Matt ever since his dad died, nowhere to go. Instead, it had just been eating away and beating at Matt for years. Tearing him down, tearing him up. Hurting him, his friends...he had thought it was evil. But now it was flaring up, bright and hungry, and he realized that wasn’t true. 

  But this in front of him, this woman - this thing - this was evil. 

_   Rock and roll.  _

  They raised their fists, drying blood cracking as their fingers clenched. Then they unleashed the devil. 

  Bouvois was caught off guard. Matt and Az slammed into her like a locomotive. She twisted around and tried to slice at them with her sword, but it was like every sense was keyed up to its highest degree. Matt almost felt like the world was moving in slow motion. It was like every move was choreographed, and he had memorized these steps a long time ago. He deflected the sword with his wrist, the back of his hand meeting the flat of the blade. He grabbed her other arm and yanked her forward into his knee. She jerked away, and he let her. He brought the rest of his leg up and kicked her back. She slid backward, not losing her feet but he heard her let out a gasp of pain. Castiel didn’t skip a beat. He was there to meet her, blade plunging into her shoulder as she backed away from Matt. 

  She let out a short scream and disappeared for a moment. Az swept them away instinctively, popping over towards one of the bookshelves. Almost as if scheduled, Evangeline reappeared right where Matt had been standing, a short burst of flames burning out quickly with no victim to claim. She stood there panting for a moment. 

  “Fine, then.” She hissed. 

  Something popped, like a cork off a champagne bottle. Some sort of pressure fled the room, some of the magic that was clouding the room vanishing. Matt let out a sigh of relief, head feeling much clearer than it had a moment ago. 

  “Don’t be too relieved,” Az said. Sure enough, the magic hadn’t simply vanished. It had just gone somewhere else - into Evangeline. 

  “She just ended the barrier spell,” Cas said, suddenly standing beside them. Matt smelled blood, and realized Evangeline had landed a blow on Cas after all.

  “You okay?”

  “I'm fine. We can’t let up.”

  Matt nodded, letting himself melt into that adrenaline-fueled fighting state. Ahead of them, Evangeline had her arms outstretched, head thrown back. She took in a deep breath, then rolled her head forward. And then she floated into the air. 

  “I think this fight will be a bit more...fair, now.”

  Electricity crackled in the air around them, the smell of ozone cutting through the incense. Matt ducked into a roll, Cas jumped aside. What Matt could only assume was a lightning bolt hit the ground where they had just been standing. 

_   How many tricks does she have? _

_   She’s boosted up on something...whatever it is, it can’t last. We just have to run her down.  _

  Outlasting a fight? Enduring the worst? That was their specialty. 

  Matt raised a hand towards Evangeline, Az’s power surged through him and together they got a hold of her and tried to tug her down to the ground. She broke their hold, but they gave Cas the opportunity to attack. Then they launched themselves into the air while she was swiping at Cas, almost landing a blow before she dodged out of the way. 

_   We just have to outlast her, right? _

_   Make her use up all of her magical energy. And then it will be our turn.  _

_   I bet we can get a few hits in there before that happens.  _

  Matt reared back his fist, then unleashed a swing just as Az teleported them in front of Evangeline’s face. He felt the punch connect, but didn’t follow through because just as quickly Az teleported them away. This was going to be a long fight - might as well have some fun with it. 

* * *

 

 

  The sounds of a distant fight bounced and echoed their way through the corridors of Evangeline’s maze and into the prison where Sam and Dean were now unlocking cages as quickly and quietly as they could. They already had twenty people out and cowering behind them, confused and afraid. There were four more cells to go. 

  “God damn, why does she need so many fuckin’ captives? This is ridiculous,” Dean muttered under his breath as he jangled the keys, trying to to find the ones for the cell he was now standing in front of. Inside, several people were staring at him with hope and trepidation. Their eyes, along with Sam’s, kept flickering down the hallway where the sounds of a fight were dying down. Dean didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. He hoped Cas and Matt and Az were alright, they better be, because if not the whole plan was going to go to shit.

  “Hurry up, Dean,” Sam said.

  “I’m going as fast as I can, Sammy,” Dean hissed.

  He finally found the right key, and six more captives flooded out to join the others. 

  “Dean...listen.” Sam grabbed the keys, silencing them, putting a finger to his lips. The sounds of the fight were gone. 

  “Hurry, hurry,” the people from the next cage where whispering, gesturing wildly for Dean to unlock their cell. He obliged, stepping over the body of a demon they had killed, shifting through the keys as fast as he could. Sam went to work on the next door, picking the lock while anxiously checking over his shoulder. 

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, everyone was free. Now they just had to get them out of here. 

  “This way,” Dean hissed, gesturing for everyone to follow him as he went down the now quiet hallway.

  “But...isn’t that where all the...the monsters are?”

  Someone started crying. A woman standing near Sam covered her mouth and began praying. 

  “It’s our best bet for getting out of here,” Dean answered, impatient.

  “Our friends cleared a path. It’ll be okay. Trust us,” Sam said, a little more comforting. 

  Dean resisted the urge to snort. Either Cas, Matt and Az had cleared a path, or they were dead. And if that was true, they were all dead anyway. And if that was true...Dean shook his head, no time for thoughts like that. They had made it. The plan was working. 

  They started jogging down the hallway, Dean in front and Sam covering the rear. They almost made it to the main room when a cold feeling swept over Dean and a siren went off. 

  “Shit.”

  A moment later a booming voice rang from somewhere in the building, screaming a single word. “GO!”

  Their group of rescued captives started panicking, pushing past Dean to try and escape. 

  “Wait!” Dean shouted, trying to stop them from rushing past. 

  Suddenly, a dozen demons appeared in front of him, holding various weapons. One with a machete swung lazily at a captive running past, catching them across the thighs. They hollered in pain and went down.  The rest of the people shrank behind Dean. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Sam aiming his gun. Five demons each - no problem. They had that handled.  Then Dean saw something behind Sam, working its way down the hall towards them. 

  “Sam, behind you!” He shouted, veins running cold. It looked like a dark, cloudy shadow filling the end of the hall. But Dean recognized it for what it was - a hoard of monsters. Evangeline’s failed experiments. 

  Okay, maybe they didn’t have this handled. 

  He tossed his gun to someone in the back of the crowd.

  “Use this!”

  Then he unstrapped his shotgun and his flask of holy water and handed to the person on either side.

  “Cover me.”

  Then he faced the demons in front of him. 

  Cas was still alive. So that meant he had to make it through this. 

  Beside him, the woman cocked the shotgun, and some teenager nervously uncapped the holy water. 

  They could make it through this. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and friends decide to stop sitting on their butts, Matt and company aren't sure whose ass is getting handed to whom, and Sam and Dean could use some backup.

  It felt like surfacing after diving down to touch the bottom of the pool. She hadn’t even been aware of the pressure until it vanished, suddenly and all at once. Everyone felt it, heads popping up all over the train station and looking around in confusion, trying to figure out what had just happened.

  “What was that?” Karen wondered. 

  Before anyone could answer, cell phones started buzzing and ringing all across the room. The lights stuttered back to life, flooding the station with fluorescent light and chasing away the dim sunlight they had been working with so far. 

  “The barrier...it must be gone,” Foggy said, staring around them.

  “What does that mean? Did they do it?” Claire asked. 

  “I don’t know. I have a feeling this isn’t over yet,” Ysanne said, steely eyed. Then a device on her wrist that looked like an apple watch from the future buzzed, and she started tapping away on the display screen.

  “SHIELD is here.”

  Foggy groaned. Karen frowned.

  “I don’t know what your aversion to SHIELD is - they’re going to help us,” Ysanne said.

  “SHIELD doesn’t have a reputation for being...nice,” Foggy said carefully.

  “Or tidy,” Claire added.

  “You didn’t even know what demons were - how is SHIELD supposed to help?” Karen said.

  Ysanne sighed. “I didn’t know what demons were a day ago, no - but I’ve been helping you guys out a ton, right? These guns were developed by SHIELD. And we’re trained to deal with the unknown, with extra dimensional threats. SHIELD is our best bet for getting this wrapped up with the least amount of casualties.”

  Claire looked into Ysanne’s eyes, and knew she meant well. She trusted her, even. She just wasn’t sure about the rest of her team. Especially when Matt was in the middle of the fight, wearing a mask and possessed by a demon. Sam and Dean, from what she had gathered, weren’t on great terms with government bodies. And if they found Castiel - well, the angel could probably handle himself. But he had been captured before, by Evangeline. If SHIELD found someone as powerful as him, they might not let it go.  But then she looked around the train station. People were hurt, scared, in danger. If SHIELD could help with that…

  Ysanne was looking at each of them earnestly, then sighed again and glanced at her watch. 

  “It doesn’t really matter, anyway. They’ll be here any second.”

  “What are you going to tell them?” Foggy blurted. “Are you going to tell them about Matt?”

  “I’m not going to reveal his identity, no. But I’ll let them know Daredevil is out there fighting on our side. And that he’s been helping me out.”

  “What about Sam and Dean, and Cas?” Claire asked.

  Ysanne hesitated. “I don’t know…”

  “What about us?” Karen said. 

  Ysanne opened her mouth, looking helpless. At that moment, her watch chirped to life again and a voice spoke.

  “Agent Hernandez - we’re moving in.”

  “Roger, Levina. The station is clear,” Ysanne answered. 

  As soon as she was finished speaking, the doors to the train station burst open and agents in what looked like full SWAT gear came spilling in, guns, gadgets, SHIELD insignias and all. 

  “Just...trust me, okay? Everyone is going to be fine,” Ysanne said, then went to meet a man in a long coat that was just now strolling in, looking calm and collected as he observed the scene. 

  Foggy, Karen, and Claire watched her go, feeling uneasy. 

  “Matt hasn’t contacted us,” Foggy said, checking his phone.

  “None of them have,” Karen said. 

  “They’re still fighting, then. Maybe SHIELD can help? Ysanne’s right - those guns trounced those monsters. Maybe they have more of that, that Asgardian tech.” Foggy was rambling, running his hands through his hair. 

  Claire was biting her nails, thinking, as Karen and Foggy went back and forth. Running through the different scenarios, imagining different decisions, thinking about the past, about everything they had been through, about everything SHIELD had done. Finally, she spoke.

  “Do you guys trust Matt?”

  Foggy and Karen grew quiet. Then, after a moment, they answered in unison.

  “With my life.”

  “Yes.”

  Claire nodded. “What about the others? Az, Sam and Dean, Cas?”

  Foggy nodded, “Yeah, I think I do, actually. Don’t really know why.”

  Karen took longer to answer. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I do. They said they’ve fought bigger enemies than this. Castiel is a literal angel,” she laughed a little breathlessly at that, still hardly able to believe it. “And Az saved Matt’s life. They’ve been putting themself out there again and again to help us. I think…I think they need our help now.”

  Foggy took a moment to absorb what she was presenting.

  “Wait, wait, wait - you want us to go there? And...and what, fight? I’m a lawyer! I never had an old blind man teach me the ways of kung fu!”

  “They said SHIELD would just get in the way - what makes you think we won’t?” Karen said. 

  Claire shook her head, hand to her forehead. 

  “I don’t know, exactly. I just have this feeling.”

  “A feeling,” Foggy said, deadpan. 

  “Look. If SHIELD gets to that warehouse and they’re still fighting Bouvois, it’s going to be a mess. SHIELD doesn’t understand what’s going on here. I’m not sure what Ysanne is going to tell them but...but let’s say SHIELD busts in there, takes down Evangeline, and we’re all saved. What about our friends? They’re not going to let Daredevil walk away without interrogating him, finding out his identity, his abilities. Sam and Dean will be just as bad off. And Castiel - well, I have no idea how that would turn out, but I can’t imagine it would be good. And Az...they don’t even know what demons are, but they’re not going to just let that fly, either. What I’m saying is, once this mess is over, if SHIELD gets involved there’s going to be an even bigger mess.”

  She looked from Foggy to Karen, but neither of them said anything.

  “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’m tired of always being on the outside when things like this go down. And no, I don’t have superpowers, or special training or whatever, but Matt and Sam and Dean, they’re all human just like us. If something happens to them, and we just sat here…”

  Karen sighed, finding her gun where she had put it on the floor near their little campsite in the corner near a photobooth, and slung it over her shoulder.

  “Let’s go, then.”

  Foggy put his hands up, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! I get what you’re saying, Claire, I do! But...like Karen said - what if we just get in the way? What if we complicate things?”

  “They haven’t contacted us. They’re in a fight against an evil witch and an army of demons - I think they can use whatever help they can get. And right now, that’s us.”

  Foggy pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut.

  “God damn. Fine. We’re all going to die, aren’t we?”

  “What about Ysanne, and all these agents? They’re not going to let us just walk out of here with these.” Karen said.

  Claire looked over her shoulder, where Ysanna was deep in conversation with Long Coat. Agents were spread all throughout the station now, checking on the injured, interviewing others, patrolling the doorways and windows. They hadn’t come over to where Claire and the others were yet, probably because they were tucked behind the bulky photo booth and out of the way of everyone else. 

  “I would say now is our best bet for getting out of here unnoticed, though. No one has really seen us yet.”

  Foggy swallowed, “Okay. But our guns are running pretty low. We need new ones or we really are going to die.”

  Claire eyed a group of police officers standing by a Dunkin’ Donuts, sipping on coffee and snacking while the agents took over. Some of them still had the guns Ysanna had given them slung over their shoulders, but others had laid theirs nearby on the counter. 

  Karen followed her eyes.

  “No way. How?”

  “They’ll definitely see us if we try that,” Foggy said. 

  They were all so busy staring at the police officers and their guns that no one noticed Ysanne approach, and when a hand clapped down onto Claire’s shoulder she jumped and yelped a bit. 

  “What are you all planning?”

  “Nothing,” Foggy said quickly.

  “Because if you’re thinking about stealing those police officers’ guns and sneaking out of here, it’s not going to work.”

  Claire sighed. “Look, Ysanne. I know you mean well. And I trust you, it’s just...I don’t trust the rest of your friends.”

  “What did you tell that guy?” Karen asked.

  “I didn’t tell him much. Just that there were monsters attacking the city, possessing people. I said I didn’t know where they came from, but I suspected a woman named Evangeline Bouvois was behind it. I told them Daredevil had contacted me with some information, and was trying to find her now.”

  Claire raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t expected Ysanne to withhold so much information from her superior. The agent herself was looking stressed, hands on her hips and worrying her lip, eyes darting around the room.

  “I get it. I know you don’t think I do, but I do. I know SHIELD isn’t perfect. The HYDRA incident proved that well enough. And Daredevil...Spiderman, even the Avengers...they’re just people, but they’re picking up the slack where we can’t. You guys, your friends...you’re trying to save this city, and I think you might just damn well pull it off. As much as I wish we could work together, I understand why you don’t want to.”

  She sighed, rubbed a hand down her face.

  “So that’s why, against my better judgement, I’m going to help you out.”

  “Help us....with what?” Foggy asked, shifting from foot to foot.

  “With getting some weapons, and getting to that warehouse to help your friends.”

  “What about you?” Karen asked. “What are you going to do?”

  “Oh, I’m coming with you. I’m still an agent, I’m not sending a bunch of civilians into this mess alone.”

  Claire couldn’t hide the surprise on her face. “What about Neo over there?” She nodded towards the agent in the long coat.

  “Levina? Don’t worry about him. Now come on, we have to hurry. I have a feeling those knuckleheads could probably use a hand, supernatural powers or not.”

 

* * *

  This wasn’t a sensation Az had felt in a while. Being tired, that was. Luckily, it was something Matt was very familiar with, and was powering through like a breeze. But they weren’t the only ones affected - Castiel was lagging, too. Breathing hard, stumbling back after blocking an attack. 

  This fight was going on too long. 

_   I thought we were supposed to be tiring her out, not the other way around.  _  Matt thought, wiping a trickle of blood from his nose. They had taken a hard hit, gotten thrown into the wall. Az thought there might be more damage than either of them were aware - no scratch, that - they knew Matt’s body was pretty torn up at this point. Still living, Az was certain, but they were beat to hell.  Cas was in a similar state. That insane power he had been projecting at the start of the fight had faded, and they could smell blood on him. 

  Fortunately, some of that blood was Evangeline’s. Cas had sliced her a few times with his blade, and Matt and Az had gotten in some good hits too. She was definitely feeling the effects of this long, dragged-on fight as well. But even though she was breathing hard, and they could smell the sweat on her, hear her heart beating ferociously fast, and she swayed on her feet from time to time, her attacks were not abating nor growing less powerful. 

  “Just a little measly demon, who can’t even take over a normal human vessel, and a lovesick angel kicked out of heaven - what do you think you’re trying to do? What do you think this will accomplish?” Evangeline shouted, voice ragged. She laughed, a bit hysterical.

  Cas didn’t answer, just charged forward while Az and Matt hung back for a moment, gearing up for the next bout. They heard the ring of blade on blade, then Evangeline spoke again.

  “You three…” feet shuffled, the air parted for a blade whipping past and not meeting its target. 

  “...should be joining me! Together…” more feet shuffling, Cas’s coat flapping. 

_   We could rule the galaxy, _ Az quipped. Matt smirked. 

  They rushed in, covering Cas when Evangeline tripped him up, getting behind him while he regained his footing. They landed a jumping kick on her ribs, sending her stumbling away. She vanished, then reappeared behind them. They dropped to the floor as she tried to cleave them in half, then sprung up and planted both feet on her abdomen, successfully sending her stumbling back. She screamed, and they almost didn’t teleport away in time. 

  A wave of magic blasted out from her - cold and quiet. They were outside in the hallway, projecting their senses into the room. Whatever she had cast, Az was glad they had managed to avoid it. It felt like...empty space. But huge. Like she had actually opened a portal into the void of outer space. Matt couldn’t get anything else from whatever magic had washed over the room except cold. 

  For a moment, while crouched outside the room out of way of immediate danger, they cast their senses into the rest of the warehouse. It had been impossible to focus on anything other than the fight since it began, and between that and the magic from Evangeline and Cas and filling up the warehouse, Matt hadn’t been able to pick up anything.  It only took a moment to locate the others. Sam and Dean, shouting. Several other heartbeats, fast and scared. That didn’t sound good. They focused...demons. And monsters. Flanking the brothers and the captives. Matt’s heart squeezed in panic for a moment. It wasn’t working - they were in danger. They weren’t going to make it.  And then the door behind them exploded off its frame, splinters flying into Matt and making him glad he had put on his suit before coming here. 

  Cas was back - Az wasn’t sure where he had gone, or if he had been hit by the strange void magic Evangeline had just cast. 

  “Matt, Az.” Cas said by way of greeting.

  “Cas! Dean and Sam-” Matt began, but was cut off when a wall of intense heat - fire -  was hurled out of the shattered door frame. Cas put an arm up like it was a strong wind, but Matt and Az threw themself inside one of the other doorways in the hall. 

  The room was...empty. And not just empty as if it had been vacated. There were no lingering scents, no dust, no drafts or heat from wiring or cracks in the wall. It felt fake, almost. Behind him, Evangeline aimed another fire spell at Cas, and when she did the room began buzzing with magic, and that same cold, consuming void began forming around them. Az teleported them out before Matt put together what was happening. They were back in the hallway, where fire was starting to eat the walls and carpet. Az and Matt didn’t pay attention to that, though - they were focused on the room that they had just been in. Or rather, where it should have been. They shifted focus to the room they had found Evangeline in - gone. 

_   She’s undoing old spells and reusing the magic energy, _ Az realized.

_   So all the magic spells she cast on the warehouses, all the extra rooms, the weird portals… _

_   Magical recycling. _

_   So you were right - we’re wearing her down.  _

  Az was sure that right. She must be getting tired if she was shutting down old spells to draw energy from. But that also meant this whole time, she had been putting energy into multiple, complicated spells all across the city. The amount of power and concentration that would take…

  They knew Evangeline was a powerful witch, but that seemed insane. 

_   Witches aren’t usually this powerful? _

_   Not nearly,  _ Az answered.

  They had to leap out of the way of another attack, still thinking. Matt got there first, which didn't mean a lot considering they were sharing the same brain.

_   The deal. _

_   What? _

_   That demon...it was talking about Evangeline working with someone else - the Hand, maybe. Or the Beast.  _

  Az felt a chill at the mention of the ancient demon, and they were pretty sure it wasn’t due to a sudden draft, considering the hallway around them was mostly on fire. 

_   What if the Beast is helping her, giving her a power boost? _

_   Then we’re in more trouble than we thought,  _ Az said, just as Evangeline let out a roar and thrust her hands forward. Cas and Az tumbled backwards, slamming into the door at the other end of the hallway and through it, crashing into the railing of the balcony. From here, Matt could easily hear Dean and Sam struggling with the enemies attacking them. But they also heard something else, that brought them a strange mixture of hope and fear. 

_   No way... _ Az thought. 

_   We have to keep her distracted,  _ Matt said with renewed vigor. 

  Cas’ blade had fallen from his hand and was laying on the metal floor. Matt and Az scooped it up and charged, shouting and making their attack as obvious as possible. Evangeline raised a hand and they teleported, trying to drop down from above. She was ready for that, raising her own sword in their direction. Matt came down on it with his boots, felt the sword start to cut through the soles, then threw his body to the side. It wasn’t graceful, but it got her attention. And that was enough, because whatever happened, she couldn’t notice who had just come inside the warehouse.

 

* * *

  Dean and the others were being backed into a corner - and being backed into a corner was the best option right now. The other option was being dead. Because the way things were going, Dean did not see a way out of this mess.  Together with some of the captives, he and Sam had managed to cut a path through the demons and monsters to a store room where they had quickly ushered the everyone inside and barricaded the doors. Sam cut his hand and sloppily but effectively slapped a protective sigil on the back of the door, then stepped back and listened to the demons and monsters pounding away against the other side. 

  Dean met his brother’s eyes, then glanced back at the 30 civilians they had in tow, who were hurt, scared, and confused. 

  “What the fuck do we do now?”

  Sam’s eyes were darting all over the room, but Dean had already given it a once over. There weren’t any other doors or windows. They were trapped. 

  “This isn’t going to hold them off for long,” Dean said quietly, taking in their slapdash barricade.

  “Um, excuse me - but…” Dean and Sam turned to see a short woman with a braid stepping up. “Who are you? And...what are those things out there? What is going on, exactly?”

  Sam hesitated, so Dean spoke up. “This isn’t a great time to get into a long explanation, lady.”

  “Well, if we knew what was going on, we could help…?”

  Dean scoffed. “Unless you’re an angel in disguise, then I don’t think there’s much you can do, sorry.”

  Sam offered that wincing apologetic smile. 

  “They’re demons, aren’t they?” Someone said, and the teenager with the holy water stepped forward. “Demons from hell.”

  Sam blinked a few times, and the crowd began to murmur.

  “Yeah. They’re demons,” Dean said. Sam elbowed him. Some people in the crowd let out cries of anguish. 

  “But they’re not all powerful. We can take them. We just need a plan.”

  “Well, I’m out of this holy water or whatever was in here, Mister,” the teenager raised the flask, handing it back to Dean. 

  Dean stared into the bottle, and the bone dry interior. He had more, and Sam did too. They had armed themselves to the teeth before coming in here - that wasn’t a problem. It was just pure numbers. He looked at the crowd. A man had cleared an area in the back and was treating some of the injured captives with the help of some of the others.  These people were inexperienced. They had managed to fend the demons off long enough to take cover in here, but there were already casualties. Shadows moved past the light leaking in under the door, and the door began to jostle. Something on the other side began scratching and howling. The crowd cowered back, leaving Sam and Dean standing alone in the front. 

  Sam looked at Dean with a look he had seen too many times. 

  “We could run out there, try to draw fire,” Sam said. 

  Dean shook his head, “There’s too many of them.”

  “It’s not like we have a lot of options. Cas and Matt haven’t contacted us...and since all these guys are still here,” he gestured toward the door, “then I’m guessing they haven’t taken down Bouvois yet.”

  Dean grumbled, rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed.  Before he could give in to Sam’s insane plan, though, his phone buzzed.  Sam reached for his pocket at the same time. 

  “Well, son of a bitch.”

  “Can we hold out until they get here?” Sam asked. 

  Dean nodded, “Hell yeah. It’s our best chance.”

  He read the message again.

_   Claire: _

_   We’re on the way to the warehouse. Respond if you’re still alive. _

  He typed out a response.

_   Dean: _

_   We’re still alive, holed up in a storage closet with the captives. Demons and monsters on the other side, could use some help.  _

  He waited a moment, then there was another buzz.

_   Claire: _

_   Four of us, almost there. Left SHIELD behind - do we need them? _

_   Dean: _

_   Leave SHIELD out of it. We just need a distraction and some more of Hernandez’ guns. _

_   Claire: _

_   We can be distracting. Any word from Cas or Matt and Az?  _

_   Dean: _

_   Not yet.  _

  Dean tucked his phone in his pocket, looking up at Sam.

  “Help’s on the way.”

  “Yeah, a SHIELD agent and three untrained civilians - are you sure this is a great idea?”

  “No, it’s not a great one, but it’s what we got. And they’ll pull through - we’ve all made it this far, after all.”

  “You’re being weirdly optimistic.”

  “What? You want me to say we’re doomed and we’re all going to die? We’ve been through too much shit to die here, Sammy. Besides...Claire and them seem alright.”

  A smirk pulled at Sam’s lips. 

  Dean scowled, “Come on! They’re alright, it’s not like I want to have sleepovers and get brunch together. They just seem pretty capable, is all. After saving helpless ass after helpless ass for years it’s nice to have some backup.”

  “Yeah, sure. You can just admit you like them, you know.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. They’ve been a pain in the ass.”

  “They helped us get Cas back.”

  Dean grumbled noncommittally. 

  “And Daredevil is kind of like Batman.”

  “He’s really not.”

  Sam’s smile fell and his eyes flit back to the door, which continued to shake as the forces on the other side tried to break through.

  “Do you think they’re going to make it?”

  “We’ve got an angel, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, a demon, a SHIELD agent, two lawyers and Claire Temple on our side. That’s a hell of an army.” 

  At Sam’s expression, Dean simplified. “We’re all gonna make it.”

  Sam rolled his eyes, then walked back towards the crowd, who were growing more nervous by the minute. 

  “Everyone - some people are coming to help us. When they get here, things might get hairy- but stay here and you’ll be safe. We’re all going to make it out of here.”   
The people seemed to relax - Sam had that effect on people. He made them feel safe. Dean hung back and let him do his thing. 

  Then his phone buzzed again.

_   Claire: _

_   We’re here. Ready to get this party started? _


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone! Fight! And try not to die!  
> The whole team reunites for the final showdown.

  It was pretty easy to find the storage room Sam and Dean had gotten trapped in alongside all the other captives. It was the only door a howling, frothing mob of demons was gathered at, all scratching and pounding away at the seemingly flimsy wooden frame. Apparently they were all so busy trying to eat the Winchesters, they had left the entire rest of the warehouse vulnerable. 

  Foggy’s heart rate was already pounding away at lethal speeds when they broke a window and crawled in, not daring to enter through the front door. When they had then proceeded to walk through an empty, bloody warehouse with ominous echoing through the vents, it had ramped up to just a basically a constant hum. It felt like his heart was the equivalent of a hummingbird’s wings right now.  And then they had stumbled upon this. 

  Luckily, none of the monsters seemed to have noticed them quite yet. He took a deep breath, then lifted his gun and aimed. Almost in sync, Claire, Karen, and Ysanne all lifted their guns and took aim alongside him.  They might be about to die, but at least he would look freakin’ badass when he did. 

  The next few minutes were a blaze of blue light and black smoke, demonic howls and desperate shouts. There was blood, and ash, and all Foggy could take in was the sweat on his lips and which enemy to shoot next. He was completely in the flow - the only other time he had felt this immersed was when he stumbled upon a really good argument in preparation for a case, or if he reached a new high score in tetris. But this was on a whole new level. It was a fight to the death - kill or be killed. He didn’t even completely feel scared anymore - just determined. He didn’t have time to think about anything other than duck, shoot, move, to the left, there, shoot, jump, duck, shoot, dodge, move, Karen, shoot, move, Claire, and so it went. He didn’t even feel like he was thinking at all. His body was almost moving on its own, making critical decisions faster than his brain could talk. 

  At some point Sam and Dean joined the fray, and then at some other point it was over.

  They had won. 

  All around them lay burned-out corpses, and Foggy pushed down the sick feeling in his gut. His whole body was buzzing with adrenaline and nerves. He wiped sweat from his brow, and his hand came away smeared with blood. He took a step and stumbled. Sam caught him, supporting him on a shoulder and looking concerned.

  “You okay, man?”

  “I just need a minute.”

  But they didn’t have a minute, and he knew that. Somewhere in here, Matt was still fighting. 

  “Come on out - hurry! Move it, move it!” Dean was standing by the storage room door, waving his hands like a traffic conductor and issuing frightened captives out into the hallway battleground.

  Ysanne was directing them to the window they had busted in, rushing them along with the same intensity as Dean. Foggy’s ears started to ring.  Sam sat him down in a somewhat clear area of the hall, against a wall, and knelt in front of him.

  “Foggy - say something. Snap out of it.”

  “What now?” Karen was saying breathlessly. 

  “Where are Matt and the others?” Claire said. She had scratches on her arms and was hunched over slightly, trying to be nonchalant about it.

  “We don’t know - we haven’t seen them,” Sam answered.

  “That’s kind of been the point - means the plan is working.” Dean said.

  “We hope. We need to give them backup.” Ysanne said.

  Foggy’s senses were coming back. His legs felt a little more solid now. He stood.

  “Then let’s go find them.”

  Sam’s eyes widened, “Whoa, whoa! Slow down - you need to get back somewhere safe! You all should, while you still have a chance.”

  “Yeah, right. We just saved your butts - now we’re going to go save theirs,” Claire said.

  Sam glanced at Dean, who shrugged. “They’re right. And we don’t really have time to waste arguing about it.”

  Ysanne joined them after seeing the last of the captives off. Karen’s eyes trailed down the hallway they had disappeared down.

  “Are we sure they’ll make it out on their own alright?”

  “I think the rest of her minions were in this corridor - the rest are out in the city, getting annihilated by SHIELD, hopefully.”

  “That was a lot of demons, but it wasn’t really an army,” Sam observed, looking at the carnage around them. Foggy felt a little sick again, but grit his teeth and gripped his gun a little tighter.

  “Lucky us.” Dean quipped.

  “I guess that’s why she was so intent on taking Hell’s Kitchen - more recruits to turn into demons. Or monsters.”

  “Good thing we stopped her. The captives are safe, the barrier is down, the runes destroyed. SHIELD is moving in. Her plan’s ruined.” Ysanne stated, eyes steely. 

  “I still don’t feel like this is over,” Claire said. 

  “No duh. If it was, Matt and Az would be here. Cas too. So let’s go finish this, once and for all.” Foggy started down the hallway the opposite way they had come. After a moment, he heard the footsteps of the others join him.

  “So...what’s the plan here? Just bust in and start blasting?” Karen’s voice trembled slightly.

  “Pretty much,” Dean answered. “With a witch like Evangeline, there’s no knowing what to expect. We have long-range weapons, so try to stay as far away as you can. Anything crazy starts happening, make a run for it.”

  “We’re long past crazy,” Foggy muttered.

  Sam huffed a laugh. “We’ll see about that.”

  They fell into silence as they continued down the narrow hallway, concrete walls stained with blood and other various substances. Buzzing yellow lights flickered overhead. From somewhere in the building, indistinct groans reverberated through the vents. Sometimes they were more articulate - like screams. 

  Then they reached a metal door covered in peeling blue paint, and the groans and screams sounded much closer. 

  “Ready?” Dean asked. Everyone nodded. Guns whirred to life, the blue light shining up on their battle-stained faces. He pushed the door open.

  It opened up into the central hub of the warehouse - a huge, concrete room that was...empty. There were still some boxes and various witchy implements set up, but it wasn’t the battle scene Foggy had envisioned.  There was a shriek from somewhere above them, then a blast wave that made them all stumble slightly, ducking and looking around frantically. Two familiar voices shouted out, and metal creaked and groaned.

  “The balcony!” Karen exclaimed, pointing. Currently, they were standing beneath a concrete overhang - and attached to that, protruding into the central room was a metal balcony. It jostled, and Foggy saw two pairs of feet skid across the slatted floor.  There was another blastwave, and Foggy’s ears popped like an airplane had taken off. Immediately after, the metal balcony tore apart, metal screaming, and two familiar forms crashed into the floor below. 

  “Matt!”

  “Cas!”

  They all shouted in a chorus, excited to see their friends were still alive. Foggy had never been so happy to see the dark-red clad figure of Daredevil in his life. 

  “Dean! Get ba-” Cas shouted, eyes flicking from their little group to something above. Matt vanished, then reappeared directly in front of Foggy at the same time a third person crashed-landed from the balcony.  Unlike Cas and Matt, who had been unceremoniously dropped - this figure crashed into the concrete floor with a purpose, superhero pose and everything. But when she stood, she looked about as far from a superhero as you could get. 

  “Is that-” Karen started.

  “Evangeline Bouvois.” Matt, or Az, finished. Foggy wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care. All he could do was stare at the woman before them.

  He had seen the witch before, in photographs. She had just looked like any other ordinary human - not some all-powerful, immortal evil witch.  Now, she looked the par Her face was sunken, her eyes red, her hands like claws. Her hair was standing on end and writhing slightly, like she was a real-life Medusa or something. She bared her teeth at them and growled. 

  Suddenly a silver blade protruded out of her abdomen from behind, and she screamed, arching her back before spinning around to strike at her assailant. Cas vanished, re-appearing next to Matt in front of them. Evangeline cupped a hand over the wound and hissed, but didn’t seem altogether too phased by a blow that would have killed anyone else.

  “You-” she began, voice distorted and echoing like a demon from a horror movie. Before she could continue her sentence, however, a beam of blue light shot through the air and connected with her chest, branching like lightning to zap her eyes and arms as well. She screamed again, her face smoking and popping after the beam cut off.

  Ysanne looked at them all, annoyance in her eyes, her gun still glowing brightly from its last shot.

  “What are you guys doing? Attack!”

  Foggy fumbled to comply, quickly raising his own gun and letting a beam of magical energy stream from it, eliciting another howl from the witch. Claire and Karen did the same, Sam and Dean quickly joining in. The entire room was lit blue with the energy from the weapons and their rays. It crackled and hummed, competing in volume with Evangeline’s screams. Whenever one arcing beam vanished, another was there to take its place.  Their shadows danced in the menacing, yet somehow beautiful, light, reminding Foggy of the demons they had just fought.  Matt and Az, as well as Cas, had fallen back, breathing hard and letting the Asgardian tech wreak havoc.

  “Enough!” Evangeline suddenly screamed, flinging her arms out. Another shockwave burst out of her, throwing them all back. Foggy fell back into sturdy arms - Matt was still on his feet, looking angry. 

  Foggy’s eyes were quickly drawn back to Evangeline, who was hunched over, almost huddled on the floor. She was breathing in deep, ragged wheezes. She turned her glare on them again, and this time it was truly horrifying. Her skin had been burned down to the bone in some places, raw muscle and tissue showing through like a terrible Halloween mask. Her wounds sizzled and smoked, oozing and bubbling with blood and some sort of thick black liquid Foggy was certain normal humans didn’t produce. Her skin was slowly creeping back over her wounds, healing - but not fast enough. In other places, her skin was peeling away even more. 

  “Evangeline - give up. You’re finished,” Cas said, stepping forward again. 

  “I’m...not done…” she wheezed. She lifted a clawed hand and squeezed it into a fist, eyes glowing with evil intent. Foggy winced back, Matt and Az quickly moving to take a protective stance in front of him and the others. 

  But nothing happened. Evangeline’s eyes went wide, then she stared at her hand in shock. 

  Matt’s panicked look was traded out for a smug grin, and Foggy couldn’t tell if the expression belonged to Matt or Az. 

  “You’ve already undone all your other spells. You were running on backup power, and it’s all gone now.”

  “You can count your demon army out for the count, too. We took care of them a little bit ago,” Dean chimed in. 

  “The captives are safe, too. Your runes, your barrier - it’s all gone,” Sam said. 

  Her jaw was clenched, painful breaths seeping out between bared teeth. Her eyes were filled with hate and anger.

  “I’m...not...done!”

  She lunged, attacking in a frenzy. This time, Cas and Matt and Az took the lead while the others stood by, watching for an opening to attack. Foggy could barely keep track of the fight. They were moving almost too fast to follow, blurs and streaks of movement. On top of that, they were all teleporting every few seconds.  Somehow, Matt and Az and Cas managed to synchronize a blow on Evangeline, both striking out and throwing her several yards away. 

  “Now!” Cas yelled, ducking. 

  Immediately, they blasted with their guns again. Her screams died away pretty quickly this time, leaving her writhing silently in the awful blue light. She stopped moving, and Foggy lifted his finger from the trigger. The others did the same, and they watched the charred, smoking body of Evangeline twitching on the floor. 

  “Is she...dead?” Foggy finally asked. 

  Then, true to form of a classic evil villain, she began to laugh.

 

* * *

  Matt had been anxious when Foggy and the others arrived - they were putting themselves in danger! And he couldn’t protect them. At the same time, as Az succinctly pointed out -  _ they saved our asses.  _ Foggy and Claire, and now Karen, Sam, and Dean had all saved his ass many times over now. Az, too. He had a lot of thanking to do when this was all over. 

_   You can thank me now by ending this bitch before she tries anything else - oops, too late. _

  Matt felt it at the same time as Az - magic. Dark, heavy. It was emanating from Evangeline but felt different from the magic she had used so far.  It was swirling and gathering around her body - but it suddenly burst out and flooded the room. They flinched back before realizing - no, it wasn’t flooding the room. Just a 10 foot radius around Evangeline. It was just so overpowering it felt like it was filling the room. Whatever this was - it was bad.

  “What the hell!” Foggy shouted.

  “What is that!” Claire demanded, panic in her voice. 

  “A portal to hell,” Cas answered, voice almost drowned out by the sudden moans and wails curling out of the portal.

  “AhahahahahaHAHAHAHA!!” Evangeline laughed, hysterical and wild. “That’s right! You might have foiled some of my plans, made me use up my reserve power - but that wasn’t all I had. I still have my trump card.”

  Then she was gone.

  “Where is she?” Ysanne shouted, sweeping her gun around the room. 

  “Did she...go in the portal?” Foggy asked.

  “Ha! Not quite, dear.” The voice came from...behind them. Matt instantly knew what had happened. He didn’t need to hear Karen’s frantic heartbeat or smell the blood trickling down her neck to put it together. 

  Evangeline was standing pressed against Karen, her hand at her throat, claws digging into her skin.

  “I still have friends down there - I hate to ask them for help, though. That’s why I always provide a nice gift when they get here. The blood of this lovely specimen should work nicely, don’t you think?”

  For an instant, Matt was frozen with panic. It seemed everyone else was, too. Their hearts were racing, muscles rigid, breath angry. They were all powerless to stop her. 

  Except for one. 

  Matt thought Evangeline was throwing another curse at him for a moment - a terrible, wrenching, tearing feeling ripped through his body. His mind was in turmoil, a sea of confusion.  _ What was happening?? _

  Then, through the internal chaos, a single calm voice cut through. 

_   Don’t worry, I got this.  _

  The last wave of confusion and pain coursed through Matt, and then vanished altogether. 

  Azirale was gone.

  There was a gasp from Karen, and suddenly Evangeline was backing away, stumbling awkwardly, muscles stiff and twitching. 

  “Whew - that was a close one, huh!” The voice was Evangeline’s, but the words weren’t hers.

  “Az!?” Matt croaked, legs buckling a bit. 

  Karen started to fall, but Evangeline - no, Az - caught her in their arms and gently lowered her to the floor. 

  “I can’t imagine you’d be a good gift for a demon - you would just scratch their eyes out,” Az said, voice a little strained. Karen didn’t answer for a moment.

  “You saved me…”

  “Yeah, well, I-” Az suddenly choked, bending over double. Sam rushed forward, the others close behind. 

  “What’s happening?”

  Az took a few deep breaths, hands clenching and unclenching, every muscle trembling.

  “I can’t hold her long...sorry guys…”

  Suddenly, a deep growl rolled out of the portal behind them. The smell of sulfur filled the room, and the oppressive magic grew heavier, if that was possible. 

  “It’s coming,” Cas said.

  “What’s coming?” Claire exclaimed.

  “Whatever she summoned,” Cas answered.

  “The beast…” Az hissed.

  Matt’s heart dropped. 

  “Don’t worry...I told you...I got this,” Az managed, and then vanished. 

  They instantly re-appeared beside the portal. Matt rushed forward, but then hands were grabbing him and holding him back. He still felt weak and wiped out, or else he would have thrown them off and rushed in regardless. 

  He promised Az he would protect them. 

  That they wouldn’t have to go back to hell.

  That they were friends.

  “What are you doing, you idiot?” Claire screamed.

  Foggy’s voice was much quieter, “What are they…”

  Matt knew, because after all this time being in the same body, souls shoved up next to each other, he might know Az better than anyone. He understood why Foggy and Claire were so fed up with his self-sacrificial attitude. And he was afraid that same self-sacrificial attitude had rubbed off on Az. 

  “Az!”

 

* * *

  Az stood at the edge of portal for a moment, taking in the sight of their friends for the first time. And the last time.

  They all looked miserable and anguished, but that made Az a little happy, they had to admit. They had caused that anguish - and not because they had tortured or killed anyone - they were genuinely sad to see Az go. 

  Matt most of all, of course. But the others looked sad, too. Even Sam and Dean, who looked resigned. They weren’t going to try and stop them - they knew as well as Az they wouldn’t be able to fight whatever was coming through that portal right now. They also knew if the spellcaster died, their spells would end. If Evangeline died right here, this would all be over. Sure, that meant Az would probably end up in hell - or consumed, if they were lucky.  But they were fine with that, if this was the last thing they saw on earth. 

  Karen, looking at them for the first time without hatred or hesitance in her eyes. 

  Ysanne, reaching out her hand as if to stop them or pull them back.

  Claire, angry and desperate, trying to talk them off the edge. They would find another way, they didn’t have to do this. Please, stop. 

  Foggy, grim and maybe even holding back tears. It was still a little difficult to read faces, after living in Matt’s world for so long. 

  And then Matt. 

  Az felt a searing blast of air billow out from the portal - a stinking breath. Ancient tongues were murmuring in the darkness, growing closer. It would be here in a moment. And Evangeline was screaming inside them, using every ounce of energy and power left in her trying to push Az out. They didn’t have much time.

  Matt was sagging - they felt a little bad to just abandon him with his body all beat to hell like that. His helmet had fallen off in the commotion with Karen, and he was not hiding his tears at all. He looked pitiful. 

  Az smiled.  They were a demon after all. Anguished faces made them happiest. 

  For a moment they tried to speak telepathically to Matt, giving one last farewell. Then remembered they couldn’t do that anymore.  They opened their mouth to say it out loud, but a terrible roar came out of the portal, and when they looked down into it they could see glowing red eyes drawing nearer. Time to go. 

  Az took a step forward, one foot dangling above the abyss. But before they could fall in, someone grabbed them from behind.  They turned, expecting to see Matt - but it was Cas. 

  “Wha-” Az started. 

  Cas’ other hand came around and gripped their face, and Az’s words died out in favor of a smile. They closed their eyes, ready for the angel’s smiting. At one point in their long, long life they would have been furious at themself - giving up, accepting an angel’s pity kill. But now - this was best. They could be at peace with this.  The hellish power behind them seemed to fade away as the angel’s power coursed into them, hot and pure and divine. 

_   This is the closest to heaven I could get, I guess… _

  Just then, Castiel’s power lurched away, and Az’s eyelids flew open. They gagged, eyes bulging, as something  _ ripped  _ out of them. There was a scream, and Az couldn’t tell where it was coming from.  They were shoved to the ground, away from the portal.  Weakly, they twisted around to look at Cas, who was still standing at the edge of the portal.

  “No...what are you doing...I have to…”

  Their eyes widened as they got a better look at Castiel, whose hand was outstretched over the portal, holding a dim, ethereal light. The scream they had heard a moment ago seemed to emanate from the light, and suddenly their hands flew to their chest, their face. They searched for Evangeline - but she wasn’t there. 

  Hands gathered them up, pulling them away from the portal as Castiel overturned his hand, casting the light into the depths. Casting Evangeline’s soul into hell.  There was a scream and a roar, and before either died away the portal shrank and twisted away before imploding with a small snap.  The heavy magic that had been filling the room vanished, and it was...just a warehouse. No demons, no spells, no magic. It was quiet, and still. 

  Cas turned back to the group.

 “Is everyone okay?”

  Az was breathing in great gulps, still shaken. It took a few tries to get the words out, but eventually they managed.

  “What...the...HELL? What the hell just happened?”

  “Calm down, buddy,” Matt’s voice came from above them, and they realized Foggy, Claire, and Matt all had a hold on them. 

  “Sorry you didn’t get your heroic self-sacrifice - but I have to say, I like this ending better,” Claire smiled.

  “It would be better if your face wasn’t burnt to hell,” Foggy added, wincing when Az turned their eyes on him. Cas walked over and put two fingers on Az’s forehead, and Az just gaped as the heavenly power once again flowed through them. 

  “Eww,” Foggy backed away as the flesh re-grew and healed around the body that was once Evangeline Bouvois. That was now just Az. 

  Cas touched Matt next, then made his rounds, healing everyone up - ending with Dean.

  “Thanks - but you need to take care of yourself, too. You look like a shitshow.”

  “Thank you, Dean. That was inspiring,” Cas’ said, voice flat.

  Az stared, then their gaze went back to Matt and Claire and the others. 

  “I thought I was gonna die.”

  “Yeah, we did too, you idiot!” Foggy said. “God, of all things about your personality pass on, Murdock, it had to be your suicidal tendencies.”

  “Wait...so is it over? We won?” Karen was still standing, though her legs were shaking.

  “We won,” Sam said, breathing a happy sigh. 

  “We really pulled it off. Well shit,” Ysanne said, leaning against the wall and letting her gun fall to her side. They all laughed - a little hysterical, maybe, and definitely exhausted, but relieved. Happy. Az just kept staring. 

  Karen came over and partly sat, mostly collapsed next to them. She looked them in the eye.

  “Thank you for saving me.”

  Az shrugged stiffly, still reeling. “It was the least I could do.”

  She smiled, a sad kind of half smile, but it was genuine. At least it seemed so. They couldn’t hear her heartbeat or anything. They looked back at Matt.

  “It’s kind of weird seeing you and not being you.”

  “It’s kind of weird to hear your voice outside my head.”

  Foggy waved his hands, “Okay, this is getting weird. Should we get out of this creepy warehouse? Maybe make sure the rest of the city isn’t burned down?”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” Sam said. Everyone grumbled but slowly got their feet. 

  “Anything from SHIELD?” Claire asked Ysanne.

  “The monsters are gone. I don’t know if they just managed to kill them all, or if they disappeared with Evangeline, but the city’s safe.”

  “What are you going to tell them?” Matt asked.

  She sighed, “I don’t know. Don’t worry, I’ll keep your identity safe. I already told them Daredevil was working with me to stop Evangeline though.”

  He nodded, “I see.”

  “That’s good press, Murdock. I didn’t mention demons or witches, however. Or you two,” she nodded towards Sam and Dean. “I’m going to have to come up with a good cover story for what I’ve been doing this whole time.”

  “We appreciate it,” Sam said. 

  “You’re not so bad for a government goon,” Dean said.

  Ysanne smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself. Maybe we can work together again sometime.”

  Dean clicked his teeth and shook his head slightly, “I don’t know about that.”

  “If SHIELD and the Winchesters ever have to work together again, I don’t know if the world will pull through a second time,” Az said as they stepped out of the dank warehouse and into the sunlight. 

  Outside, thin trails of smoke still floated in the air, but they seemed to be dissipating. The sirens and screams that had resounded through the city were now replaced with a peaceful quiet. People were gathering on the sidewalks, checking in on each other and starting to sort through debris of ravaged shopfronts. The city was regrouping. Pulling through. Toughing it out. Like it always had. Like it always would. 

  Az looked at Matt and the others - these people standing around them - they were like the patron saints of this place. 

  Ysanne, a tough, gritty soldier who cared enough to think with her heart and put everyone’s good before her own. 

  Castiel, cast out of heaven, stopped the apocalypse, created a place for himself here on earth. Unstoppable, even when divinity seemed to be against him. 

  Sam and Dean, who had literally and figuratively been to hell and back, and still cared enough to keep helping people. 

  Claire, with hands that healed and a spirit that wanted to fight, and enough wits to keep everyone’s shit together when they were losing it. 

  Karen, a tragedy that no one would blame for giving up, who refused to let that define her and scrabbled her way to happiness. 

  Foggy, someone others might consider a nobody, who never let any hardship get him down and kept plugging along, bringing light into every life lucky enough to have him. 

  Matt, born and raised in Hell’s Kitchen, born with the devil in him. Az understood what that meant now. No matter how many times he got knocked down, he always got back up. Always stronger. Determined, ferocious, heart so full of love it hurt. 

  And now...was Az part of their pantheon? 

  They looked at their friends, then over the city again. They had people, and maybe even a place to belong. They had a body all to their own. 

  What were they now?


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

  Matt stood with his cane between his hands, listening as Sam and Dean slammed the trunk of the Impala. Foggy was hovering by the car, still exclaiming over the sheer amount of illegal weaponry in the trunk. Cas, as always, was trailing behind Dean. Claire and Karen were standing a short distance away, talking about their shaken worldview. It seemed a little personal, so he tried not to listen, but it was hard not to. It was also hard not to listen to the city around them. 

  Rubble grinding against rubble as volunteers and firemen cleared out the destruction from the streets. Ambulances, people crying, news stations covering what had happened the day before. But there were also people encouraging others, finding each other, rebuilding. And Ysanne was right - the fact Daredevil had been working with SHIELD agents to stop the attack was good press. He could hear it playing on several networks from nearby apartments. 

  “Aww - okay, what are you listening to? I have to admit, I kinda miss it. Okay, I miss it a lot. Why don’t I get superpowers?”

  Az was standing next to him, pouting, apparently. It was strange not knowing exactly what was going through the demon’s head until they decided to speak it out loud. 

  “You have superhuman strength, can teleport, and are unkillable. I think those qualify as superpowers.” Matt replied cheerily. 

  “Those are definitely superpowers,” Foggy chimed in. “Wait. Holy shit. Are you going to become a superhero vigilante too?”

  “Yeah - what are you going to do now, Az?” Sam said. 

  Everyone had grown quiet and gathered around, waiting for an answer. 

  Az laughed awkwardly, shuffling their feet and pulling on their hair - now long and curly. 

  “Well...I don’t know. I haven’t really ever thought about it before. And I’ve never really had my own body before.”

  “You could come with us,” Dean said. 

  Matt’s eyebrows flew up before he schooled his expression back into place. Despite Az’s jealousy over his superpowers, they weren’t quite enough to discern anyone else’s reaction to Dean’s offer. 

  “A demon traveling with the Winchesters? And an angel? That would be an interesting road trip.”

  Matt’s lips twisted, wanting to speak, but he swallowed it back. He didn’t want to influence Az’s decision. He wanted them to be free. Besides, it was probably healthy that they got some space, right? After being possessed, the victim probably shouldn’t want the possessor to hang around, right? 

  “Or you could stick around here,” Claire said. 

  Az turned their head slightly, toward Karen and Claire and the others. Towards Matt. 

  “Yeah - if you decide to become a superhero I would feel better if there was someone to keep this guy in line. And if you don’t, well - we’re lawyers. We could help you get settled in a human life, if that’s what you want.”

  Az turned their head again - this time directly facing Matt. Waiting. 

  Matt finally managed a shrug, and “It’s true. Some company would be nice.”   
Karen groaned. “Oh my god. This is why it took you forever to tell anyone you were Daredevil. For a lawyer, you’re terrible with words. Az, Matt would love it if you stayed in Hell’s Kitchen. I don’t think any of us would mind.”

  “But it’s up to you.” Matt said. 

  “Well, Evangeline wasn’t working alone. If her friends ever come back I guess I should be here to help out.”

  Matt relaxed, not even knowing he had been tense. 

  “If her friends do show back up, give us a call. We’ll be back to help out, too.” Sam said, handing a slip of paper to Foggy. 

  “Where are you headed now? To fight a vampire?” Claire asked. Matt could hear her smug smile in her voice. 

  “No. Not yet anyway. Probably back to Kansas, get some r and r.” Sam said. 

  “We could definitely use some of that,” Dean said, clapping Sam and Cas on the shoulder. The hand on Cas’ shoulder stayed longer than the other. 

  “Right, buddy?” 

  Az groaned. “Can you two just-”

  Matt thwacked Az in the ankles with his cane, cutting them off. He felt Dean’s cheeks warm slightly, though. His hand slipped away from Cas’ shoulder and he crossed to the other side of the car. 

  “Alright boys, load up. We got a long trip ahead of us.”

  Cas gave a stiff nod. “It’s truly been a pleasure. I hope we meet again.”

  “We’re only a flap away, my man,” Az said.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Cas said, then joined Dean in the car. 

  Sam waved, hovering for a moment like he might say something more, but simply folded his too long legs into the car and closed the door behind him. Dean honked the horn, then the now-familiar thrum of the engine revved, and the tires rolled away from the curb. In a minute they were gone - out of sight, at least. Matt could still hear the engine for a few more miles. 

  He pulled his focus back to his immediate surrounding, tuning into Foggy’s voice.

  “So, if you’re sticking around here you’re probably going to need somewhere to live. And some identification. And income. Which means you’ll need a job. Besides killing bad guys and general demonic activity, what’s your skillsets?”

  “I’m over 400 years old. I have picked some stuff up along the way.”

  “Like what?” Karen asked, making her way back towards the building entrance. 

  “Well, I used to be a tailor. Which was fun for many reasons - but I think I may have thought up a way to avoid work.”

  “Oh?” Matt said.

  “Evangeline has property - those warehouses, at least. Maybe more. Who knows what kind of assets she had? And guess who owns it now?”

  Foggy sighed. “Of course, it was silly of me to think you would get an actual adult job and work for money like everyone else.”

  “To be honest, Foggy, that was a little outrageous,” Claire quipped.

  Matt followed them up the stairs towards his apartment, chuckling as they continued to banter.  Once they reached his familiar living quarters, he remembered it was pretty much absolutely trashed. Furniture rearranged, clothes and drawers laying haphazard on the floor, cabinets and shelves emptied. He  sighed, then used his cane to safely walk to the couch where he collapsed.

  “I know this is a mess, but I’m not cleaning it up right now.”

  “I feel that,” Foggy said, falling onto the couch next to Matt. He heard Karen rustling in the refrigerator, then the clink of bottles as she carried a few beers over to the living room. She dragged a chair over and sat down, passing the drinks around. Claire sat next to her on the floor, and Az next to her. There were a few pops and fizzles as the beers were opened - Claire sipped, Karen gulped, and Foggy pretty much chugged his. 

  A few floors down, Matt suddenly heard a familiar voice.

  “Hey, turn on the news. Channel nine, I think,” he said.

  Claire clicked the remote and the television flared to life. 

  “It’s Hernandez!” Foggy said, and everyone leaned towards the screen slightly.

  “-opened an extradimensional portal to another location. The perpetrator was taken down, and our agents are still looking into where exactly the portal led to. By working with Daredevil and our agents, we hope to be able to provide answers soon.”

  Another voice - the reporter, Matt assumed - began speaking.

  “Right, Daredevil. Many people have debated whether the masked man was a menace or a hero, especially with some of his recent actions. What would you say about that, agent?”

  “Without Daredevil, stopping this attack may have been impossible. He was an invaluable resource - I would say without a doubt the man is a hero.”

  “So does SHIELD condone his illegal vigilante activity? Or does he work for you now? Should we be expecting to hear about a new member of the Avengers?”   
  “I can’t speak for all of SHIELD - or the Avengers. All I can say is Hell’s Kitchen is definitely a safer place with Daredevil in it.”

  There was a sound effect, and several unfamiliar voices began talking, going over the strange events of the day before. Matt figured he should get used to hearing about it. Everyone and every news station would be talking about it for the perceivable future.  Claire clicked the remote again, and the tv fell silent. 

  “She was not lying about getting you some good press, dude,” Foggy said.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Matt said. 

  “And maybe now that you have a SHIELD agent in your corner, you won’t end up bloody at my place so often. That would be nice.” Claire said. She and Matt chuckled, though he noticed the silence from Foggy and Karen. Karen - right. He had a lot of explaining to do.  But not now. Now, he wanted to rest. He felt his eyes drift close - not that it made too much of a difference, but it betrayed how tired he was. 

  “If you’re going to take the couch, I’m taking the bed. I’m sure the hospital will be calling soon enough. It’s a miracle they haven’t already.” Claire said, standing. 

  “I guess I should head home, too…” Karen also stood, but Foggy flapped a hand at her.

  “Take the bed. I’m sure Claire won’t mind. Just like Matt won’t mind me taking this end of the couch.”

  Matt grunted in response, and Foggy patted his leg. 

  “Come on. Sleepover,” Claire said, trying to joke but voice too exhausted to really be humorous. She and Karen shuffled into the bedroom, drawing the door close behind them. 

  “I wasn’t joking about taking this end of the couch. I hope I make a comfortable foot cushion,” Foggy said. 

  “I hope my feet don’t stink,” Matt said. 

  The whole time, Az had been sitting in the same place, fidgeting slightly. But now they stood and started walking towards the roof access. 

  “Hey, where you going?” Foggy asked. 

  “Just getting some air,” they replied, trying to sound casual. Matt heard their footsteps recede up the stairs then pat across the roof. He sighed, then shifted to get off the couch.

  “Where are  _ you _ going?”

  “To talk. Enjoy the whole couch while you have it.”

  Foggy took that to heart, stretching out over the cushions with a satisfied groan. Matt was already up the stairs and stepping into the fresh air. 

  There were the usual city smells - trash, food, gas, sewage - but currently it was all tinged with a slight smell of smoke. Az was perched on the edge of the roof, looking out over the street.

  “Hey,” Matt said. 

  Az made a small noise of acknowledgement.  Matt joined them on the edge, swinging his legs over the edge and kicking his heels against the brick. 

  “Careful - if you fall I won’t be there to get you back up again.”

  “Well, now that we have an angel on call, I’m not too worried about it.”

  “Breaking your legs and arms hurts a lot more when you’re not possessed.”

  Matt hummed, and they fell into quiet contemplation. After a few moments, Matt spoke up again.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Az huffed a laugh, “It’s weird not knowing, right?”

  “Yeah. Now we just have to do things the old fashioned way, and talk.”

  Az laughed again, then fell quiet. Matt gave them time, and after a minute or two was rewarded.

  “I don’t know what to do now.”

  “Foggy seems to have some ideas.”

  “I’m serious. For centuries, I’ve just been doing the same thing. Which was...nothing, really. Now I feel like I have this...this opportunity? A second chance? I don’t want to waste it. I don’t want to go back to who I was.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “But how do I make sure not to do that? How do I know what the right decision is? There’s no higher power calling the shots, just me. It’s not like I really listened to the higher ups before, but now...I’m really on my own.”

  “You’re not - you’ve got me. And Claire, and everyone else. And everything you just described - well, that’s pretty much what every human has to worry about constantly. None of us know what we’re doing. But we try, and we learn, and we change and grow. Which is what you’re doing. You have time - more than the rest of us - to figure it out.”

  “Thanks. For having my back. And for....everything else.”

  “Anytime,” Matt said, grinning a little. 

  “So - you’re going to let me stay at your place until I find my own, right?”

  Matt laughed. “Sure. But if you really liquidize all of Evangeline’s assets, I think you’ll be pretty well off. Maybe I’ll come stay at your place then.”

  “Oh, I will definitely have the swankiest of lofts. And a new wardrobe. Maybe even a suit to match yours.”

  Matt quirked an eyebrow, “Oh?”

  “Well, your friends were right. You definitely need someone to watch your back. You are the most reckless person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a fucking lot of people. That, and... Evangeline wasn’t working alone. If she really was cozying up with the Hand, I doubt this will be the last you hear from them.”

  Matt sobered up a bit at that. “Great.”

  Az threw their arm around his shoulder, giving him a little jostle.

  “But not to fear! Hellhound is here!”

  “What? Hellhound?”

  “Yeah, wouldn’t that be a cool superhero name? And it’s thematic.”   
  “If your theme is puppies.”

  They shoved him, letting out an offended gasp.

  “Hellhounds are not puppies! They’re scary, and cool as shit! It’s a good name!”

  “Well, if you’re really going to do this, you might want to get ahead of the press with the whole name situation. I didn’t choose Daredevil, you know.”

  “Well...I’m glad it’s what you ended up with.”

  “Oh, are you jealous? I will gladly trade.”

  “No, it’s just...your name - Daredevil - that’s what made me, well, come after you, in the first place. It made me mad. Calling yourself the devil. So...in a way, some reporter calling you Daredevil is what made any of this happen. Which - I know the first bit wasn’t great - sorry about that again. But...well, I’m glad. Anyway.”

  Matt smirked. “That was so eloquent.”

  Az punched him in the shoulder - and it hurt, but not too bad. Enough to make Matt miss sharing that demonic strength a little. 

  “Okay, okay - I’m sorry. But…” he stood, offering a hand to Az. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad too.”

  Az took his hand and stood. Together, they observed the city laid out before them. The city that they had saved, together. Matt’s origins, Az’s new beginning. It had shaped them both, created something only Hell’s Kitchen could. They were a part of this place now - and when it needed them next, they would be here. 


End file.
